“Oh, a mercy me!” cried the woman. “Pore dear, he do look bad.”
“Not he. All right again direckly. You let him warm himself, and I’ll run up to the schoolhouse and fetch him some dry clothes.”
“No,” cried Mercer, rousing himself now. “We’ll both run up, and get in without any one seeing us, and go and change our things.”
“Ay, that’ll be best,” said Jem; “and, if I was you, I’d start at once. Run all the way, and it’ll warm you up.”
“Yes. Thank you for coming and helping us,” said Mercer, who had now quite found his tongue.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said the man jocularly. “That’s a fine eel, but don’t fish for ’em that way again. Going in after ’em ain’t the best way; you see they’re quicker, and more used to the water than you are.”
Mercer shuddered.
“Come along, Burr,” he said feebly.
“Wait a minute. Here’s your eel and the carp. Where’s that there rush basket, missus?”
“Oh, we don’t want the fish,” said Mercer, with a shiver. “Come along, Burr.”