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CRAB FISHING
29
"Hev ye ben doin’ suthin’ bad? Dassn’t ye
go git yer things?"
"I tumbled into the water"—sob—"and we
took the boat-hook from ’Sea Mew’—and then
the people came and I ran"—
"Oh, well! See here. I’ll lend ye my blouse.
Put it on and run down fer yer clo’es."
How kind Nils was! The blouse came almost
to Johnny’s knees, but now that he had
something on there was no reason for not going to
the wharf. Still, it was horrid to go among all
those strangers, rigged out in this fashion.
He took his way slowly down, hiding behind
trees, looking out and then sneaking forward
again, until he reached the open beach. The
picnic party was still feasting merrily, making
speeches and drinking one another’s health.
Johnny stole along, dodging from rock to rock.
Suddenly one of the ladies called out: "Mercy!
there he is!" Then they all clapped their hands and
shouted to him and clapped their hands again.
"Come here, boy," called a very stout
gentleman, the cross merchant who owned the "Sea
Mew."
Oh, dear! How embarrassing it
was—perfectly horrid! And how they roared again as
he came on to the wharf!
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