She would have assented quite as readily to have personated Jezebel or the Witch of Endor.
“And I’ll be Cain,” said Bobby, moving his line in a manner that was meant to be persuasive.
“Oh!” said Martha, with much diffidence, “Cain was wicked, wasn’t he?”
“Well, my dear Eve,” said Tim, “Bobby Frog is wicked enough for half-a-dozen Cains. In fact, you can’t cane him enough to pay him off for all his wickedness.”
“Bah! go to bed,” said Cain, still intent on his line, which seemed to quiver as if with a nibble.
As for Eve, being as innocent of pun-appreciation as her great original probably was, she looked at the two boys in pleased gravity.
“Hi! Cain’s got another bite,” cried Adam, while Eve went into a state of gentle excitement, and fluttered near with an evidently strong desire to help in some way.
“Hallo! got ’im again!” shouted Tim, as his rod bent to the water with jerky violence; “out o’ the way, Eve, else you’ll get shoved into Gihon.”
“Euphrates, you stoopid!” said Cain, turning his Beehive training to account. Having lost his fish, you see, he could afford to be critical while he fixed on another bait.
But Tim cared not for rivers or names just then, having hooked a “real wopper,” which gave him some trouble to land. When landed, it proved to be the finest fish of the lot, much to Eve’s satisfaction, who sat down to watch the process when Adam renewed the bait.