“Mm-rn!” I said. “We’ll fry the fish and eat him while we’re waiting for the duck to cook.”
“Let’s not bother with the fish,” I said: “Luck seems to be coming our way at last.
“Have you got him?” I shouted to Pee-wee as he climbed up over the railing at the other end of the bridge.
“Yop,” I heard him say.
“We’ll only have to clean the fish and scale him,” Warde said, “and it’ll be a nuisance. Let’s fry the duck instead. There’ll be plenty for all hands because that’s a good big one. Fish only makes you thirsty, anyway. I’m not so crazy about fish—not when there’s duck. Mmm!”
“We should worry about the fish,” I said, and I went over to the water and threw the fish into the water, stick and all. “He only brought us bad luck anyway,” I said.
“Sure,” Garry said; “give me duck any day. Look at the size of that one, will you?”
“I think it’s a goose,” Bert said.
“I think it’s a swan,” Hervey said.
“It’ll be much easier to eat a duck without any plates or knives or forks,” I said; “we should worry about fish. We can just take the duck’s legs and wings and—oh boy—we can just pick them dry.”