Up in the mornin’ ’s nae for me!
“Overslept yourself, Rose!”
“Are you dry yet?”
“That salmon is only thirty pounds. You awful fraud!”
“All right, dear, to-day?” were the salutations of the noisy table, as she distributed her morning kisses, and at last sat down.
“One at a time,” she replied. “Fair play, boys. First, I am nearly dry. Second, salmon always loses weight.”
“I have noticed that,” laughed her father. “Tell us all about it, my dear.” And upon this she related the adventures of the previous day.
“I must have my luck-penny,” she added. “I was a goose to give it away, but I was so cold and wet, and I was in such a hurry. I hated to send the man away without a cent.”
“It is odd that he took it,” said Anne.
“Yes,” returned her brother. “These fellows are sharp enough about their pay and about money; and he couldn’t have known what he was taking. These coins circulate no longer, even in the States. He never said a word, but merely put it in his pocket. What sort of a fellow is he, Rose?”