“Hallo, Bob, hoy!” shouted Harry in a voice which was hardly heard above the din in the mill.
“Hullo!” said Bob, gruffly, jumping up. “Oh, it’s you, young masters, is it? Well, I expect I’ve been asleep. I was up half the night, for we were so busy, and had so much water.”
“Here’s our cousin from London; and Papa said we might bring him to see the fish-traps; and he said you were to have that for showing us,” said Philip, pulling out a shilling from his pocket; which action made Bob’s eyes twinkle, and removed all sleepiness.
“Stop a minute, young genelmen,” said he, going to a cupboard in a corner, and taking out a black teapot—at least what should have been black, but it was all over flour. “There,” he said, “that’s what I always keeps there to drink when too much dust gets down my throat.” Saying which Bob took a long drink of cold tea out of the spout, and then generously offered it to all the visitors, who declared that it was such a little time since they had had breakfast that they would rather not.
“More left for me then,” said Bob; “and now for the fish-traps. I opened them last night, but I forgot to look this morning; so you’re just right, my lads—just right. Shouldn’t wonder if there was a whale down in the big trap after all this water; should you, Master Harry, eh?”
“None of your gammon, Bob. Think I don’t know better than that? Why don’t you come and look at the traps?”
“’Cos I ain’t in such a hurry as you are,” replied Bob. “You’d like me to run, wouldn’t you, eh?”
“Do come, Bob,” said Philip, putting in his appeal to the rough and dusty object before him—an appeal not without its effect, for Bob gave a very dusty smile; and then, reaching down a bunch of keys from a nail in the wall, proceeded with one of them to open a door which led down a dark flight of damp stairs to the under regions of the mill, where the two great toothed wheels were swiftly revolving—dripping with water, and looking horribly wet, slimy, and muddy; while between them, and on each side, were what Harry had called the fish-traps: large contrivances of strong laths about half an inch apart, forming very wide and deep cages, down into which, in a torrent, the water rushed and passed through—of course leaving therein everything in the shape of fish that had been brought down by the swiftly speeding current.
At the first sight of the gloomy cellar-like place and the sound of the rushing stream, mingled with the hollow cavernous plashing noise of the water running from the wheels as they rose from out the deep well-like chasms where they did their duty, Fred shrunk back and hardly liked to descend; but, seeing how coolly and confidently his cousins went down, he summoned up courage and followed, while Bob proceeded to inspect trap number one.
“Well! that’s a pretty go,” said Bob; “shan’t catch many fish that a way, anyhow.”