Old Sam—Catching the Carp.
“Come, Fred, get up, it’s such jolly weather. Make haste, and then we can go down the garden before breakfast,” said Harry, the next morning.
“Aw-aw-yaw-aw-aw,” said Fred, gaping dreadfully, and so sleepily that he forgot to place his hand before his mouth.
“Oh! come, I say, that won’t do down in the country; here, it’s seven o’clock, and we’re going to have such a stinging hot day. Do get up and dress. There is Phil down the garden now.”
“Ah-aw-aw—yes, I’ll get up,” said Fred, yawning again. “But what early folks you are; we don’t get up so soon at home. What time do you have breakfast?”
“Eight o’clock, and Papa never waits for anybody; so make haste down, or we shan’t have time to do anything before it’s breakfast bell.”
“I want some hot water,” said Fred, grumpily.
“What for?” said Harry.
“Why, to wash in, of course,” said Fred.
“Ho! ho! ho!” burst out Harry, laughing, “hot water to wash with in July! Why, we never use any all through the winter, when it’s ever so cold, and the jugs get frozen over. You try cold water, it’s ever so much better, and makes you have red cheeks like Phil’s.”