“Well, we did go out to them in a cart when the tide was low, certainly,” said Girlie, wondering however the Wallypug knew that she had been to Broadstairs.
“Very well, then, you have been to sea in a cart,” said the Wallypug; “I thought you had.”
“But not right out,” argued Girlie.
“It’s all the same, your Majesty,” remarked the Wallypug; and at this moment the Ancient Mariner returned leading a very lean horse harnessed to a clumsy-looking waggon with low seats running along each side of it, and with steps at the back, like a bathing-machine.
“All aboard, please,” he sang out, climbing up into his seat and cracking his whip.
Girlie and the Wallypug scrambled up the steps, and the Ancient Mariner held out his hand for the fare, which he said he must have before starting.
The Wallypug paid him from his little store in the handkerchief, and they were just driving into the sea, when they heard a voice calling from the shore,—
“Hi! hi! stop, ship ahoy, there!” and, turning round, they beheld a very stout woman with a baby in her arms running towards them, and Girlie noticed, to her great dismay, that it was the Porter’s wife.
“The Bathing-machine Woman,” said the Ancient Mariner. “All right, Mum, we’ll wait for you; don’t flurry yourself,” he called out.
The Bathing-machine Woman continued to run and at last reached them. Climbing breathlessly up the steps, she threw herself down on the seat, panting heavily.