“Is it good to eat?” he cried at last.
“Almost as good as any fish that swims,” said Will.
“But it’s as beautiful as a gold-fish almost,” cried Dick; “quite as beautiful as a carp—more, I think—like those golden tench I once saw. Why, where are you going now?”
“Right out,” said Will; “you don’t mind, do you? It won’t be rough.”
“No, I don’t mind,” said Dick stoutly. “I should not mind if it was rough. At least I wouldn’t say I did.”
“Hor! hor! hor!” laughed Josh again. “That’s right. But it won’t be rough. We’re going out about two miles straight away now. We ought to have been there by now on the ground.”
“But how can you tell where the ground is?” said Dick innocently. “Does it come above water?”
“Do what come above water?” said Josh.
“The ground.”
“What ground?”