So you see old Joe was a terrible fellow, and that determined it's awful to think about.
"VERY NEARLY DROWNED."
Well, they went on the river, and they rowed little races among themselves; and old Ben Jumper and old Tobias Budd upset their boat, skylarking—both of 'em being just turned eighty—and went in, and were very nearly drowned. However, they were hauled out and made to run about, and taken into a cottage, and rubbed down, and dressed up in borrowed clothes; and with a good jorum of brandy-and-water apiece, why, in half an hour they were as right as trivets, if you'll believe me!
The cold collation was a great success; and then the old boys had a smoke, and were all as jolly as sand-boys. But, suddenly, one of 'em looked round and said, "Why, where's old Joe Wilkings?" And after ten minutes, when old Joe did not turn up, all those old folks began to shake their heads doubtfully and dismally, and the old boys dropped their pipes, and the old ladies began to weep and whinnick.
"OLD JOE WILKINGS—AFTER LUNCH."
For old Joe Wilkings, being wild-like with merriment, had gone in pretty heavily for the champagne and stuff, and had got a bit mixed, as you might say, and he had gone off a little way to get some dry wood to make a fire to boil the kettle over, and then he hadn't seemed to be able to recollect which was his way back; and had wandered and wandered off in quite the wrong direction; and at last he had got drowsy and fallen asleep in a dry ditch with his wooden leg on the lower rail of a fence; and then a local policeman who didn't know him had taken charge of him and trotted him off to Winklechurch, which was the nearest village.
And those old people at the picnic got more and more depressed and feeble and helpless; and some of 'em broke down completely, and wept and doddered; for you see the influence of old Joe Wilkings's determination was rapidly giving out. And at last, after the doctor had waited anxiously at the railway station for them, and hour after hour went by without any signs of them, he decided to look them up at any cost; and at eleven that night he found them all sitting there on the bank of the river that depressed and helpless you can't imagine. Not a single one of them all had had the courage to move, and their fright and despair were perfectly fearful. And a nice trouble he had to get them home—had to send for flys, and bath-chairs, and litters, and goodness alone knows what all!
Well, then they had to find old Joe Wilkings, and mighty anxious they were about him; and a nice tramp they had up hill and down dale before they discovered him; and when they did, they found him rolled up in a shawl on the policeman's hearthrug, for, of course, Mr. Podder, the policeman, was not going to lock up the likes of an old boy of his age. Joe Wilkings had recovered a bit now, and he was that pugnacious he wanted to fight Mr. Podder and all those that had come to find him; and what should he do but put his back against Mr. Podder's parlour-wall (smashing the glass of the chromo of "Little Red Riding-Hood" that was hanging up), and invite the lot to "Come on."