“Oh, then, you want the boat?”
“Yes, it was about the boat.”
“Well, lad, there she is chained to the post. You’re welcome, only don’t get upset again and come back here like drowned rats.”
“I don’t want to row,” said Vane. “I—er—that is—oh, look here, Mr Rounds,” he cried desperately, “you can only say no. I am inventing a plan for moving boats through the water without labour.”
“Well, use the oars; they aren’t labour.”
“But I mean something simpler or easier.”
“Nay, theer aren’t no easier way unless you tak a canoe and paddle.”
“But I’m going to invent an easier way, and I want you to lend me the boat for an experiment.”
“What!” roared the miller, “you want to coot my boat to pieces for some new fad o’ yourn. Nay, lad, it aren’t likely.”
“But I don’t want to cut it up.”