"Daddy," he said, "you left it to me. I'll leave it to the Corsican Brothers."
As he spoke he deftly tied a bit of meat to the string, and lowered it into the sea with a plash; about a minute after up over the ledge straddled the Corsican Brothers—Eean's pet crabs. They knew Fred, and at once advanced. Fred gave them a morsel or two of food to whet their appetite, and not to deceive them; then the boy assumed a semi-theatrical attitude, and addressed them.
"We have a very knotty point to solve, my dear twins," he said; "and Pop says I may leave it to you. Read that letter."
Both crabs seized it at once. They thought it the biggest piece of white meat ever they had turned their stalky eyes upon. But finding it flavourless and unprofitable they lost their tempers, and tore it into shreds. So indignant did they appear, they even clawed up the pieces and tore them over again.
Then Fred brushed away the paper and gave the Corsican Brothers a bigger feed than ever they had enjoyed in their lives before.
So that was an end to Mrs. Fielding's kind, but somewhat thoughtless proposal.
* * * * * *
When Frank called in his pony-trap he found Fred in his shirt sleeves, with a plane in his hand, and hard at work. He was making a table for the igloo, for carpentering was one of his chief hobbies. On the table near him lay a Greek grammar. He was conjugating the irregular verbs, while he sent the curling shavings flying all over Toddie and Tippetty, who were having fine fun on the floor.
That meeting was a very joyful one. There was much to say and much to be told on both sides.
Instead of going to the woods to-day the children got the cobble, and went off round the point fishing.