A great piece of the stone splintered off with a report like that of a gun, but, fortunately, neither of the boys was hurt.
“We shall have to buy a frying-pan and a kittle,” said Bob, as soon as examination proved that the fish were safe, but stuck all over splinters of stone, which promised ill for the repast. “Can’t do everything at once.”
“I’m getting very hungry again,” said Dexter; “and, I say, we haven’t got any bread.”
“Well, what o’ that?”
“And no salt.”
“Oh, you’ll get salt enough as soon as we go down to the sea. You may think yourself jolly lucky as you’ve got fish, and some one as knows how to kitch ’em. They’re done now. I’ll let you have that one. ’Tain’t so burnt as this is. There, kitch hold!”
A fish hissing hot and burnt on one side is not a pleasant thing to take in a bare hand, so Dexter received his upon his pocket-handkerchief, as it was pushed toward him with a piece of stick; and then, following his companion’s example, he began to pick off pieces with the blade of his pocket-knife, and to burn his mouth.
“’Lishus, ain’t it?” said Bob, making a very unpleasant noise suggestive of pigs.
Dexter made no reply, his eyes were watering, and he was in difficulties with a bone.
“I said ’lishus, ain’t it!” said Bob again, after more pig noise.