"I'll jolt him out!" cried Moke, who was driving; and he began to urge the oxen into a heavy, clumsy trot, which shook up the cart and its contents in a way that was more lively than pleasant.
"Oh, don't do that!" cried Perce, with the jolts in his voice. "You'll break the e-g-g-s in my ba-ask-et!"
"I've had one supper, but I shall want another by the time we get to the beach," said Poke.
"So shall I!" cried Perce. "We'll make a big fire on the shore, and have a jolly time. And, I say, boys, let's call for Olly Burdeen, and make him come down on the beach with us to-night."
"That will be fun, if he isn't too proud to go with country people now," replied Moke.
"Since he's been waiting on city folks, he's as stuck up as if he'd tumbled into a cask of molasses," said Poke.
"Olly is all right," said Perce. "He doesn't put on any airs with me. We'll have him with us, anyhow!"
CHAPTER IV.
OLLY BURDEEN'S NEW CLOTHES.
There was but one boarding-house at Beman's Beach in those days. Originally a farm-house, it stood in not the very best situation, a little distance back from the sea, in a hollow of the hills. It was kept by a farmer's widow, Mrs. Murcher, who, as her business expanded, had built on additions until her house looked as if it had the mumps in one enormously swollen cheek.