“Why do you say that?” exclaimed Norman, jumping up, “you are sneering at me; you will go and tell them I daresay that I threw my rod into the water.”
“Indeed, I will not,” said Fanny, “I do not wish that any one should laugh at you.”
“You are always laughing at me yourself,” he answered, growing more angry. “But I will keep you in order, you are but a girl, and girls should always obey their brothers, that’s what I think.”
“You are but a little boy, though you think yourself a big one,” said Fanny, somewhat nettled at the way he spoke. “I wish to be kind to you, but I will not obey you, especially when you are angry, as you appear to be now, without any cause that I can see.”
Fanny was not aware how very angry Norman was.
Suddenly darting at her, he seized her hat and tore it off her head.
“Take care, young gentleman, what you are about,” cried Sandy, putting in his oars and about to take hold of Norman, who with Fanny’s hat in his hand, had jumped up on the seat.
“Your hat shall go after my fishing-rod,” he cried out, and was about to throw it as far from him as he could into the water, when, in making the attempt, he lost his balance and overboard he fell.
For a moment the water which got into his mouth as he struggled and splashed about, prevented him from uttering any sound. When he came to the surface he quickly found his voice.
“Help! help! I am drowning!” he shrieked out. “I am drowning! I am drowning! Oh save me, save me!”