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"Yes: but did you?" "Why, of course I did." "That's right. I say, where are we now?" "I d'know. Somewhere down the river." "Hadn't we better begin to fish?" "Fish? What for?" "Because I'm getting so hungry, and want my breakfast." "Yes, you're a nice fellow to wantcher bragfuss. Got no money and no clothes. I s'pose I shall have to keep yer." "No, no, Bob. I'll work, or fish, or do anything."
"Serve yer right, sittin' down to bragfuss without washing yer face. Going to have any more?" Dexter did not answer; but finished drying his face, and then took up his bread and cheese. "Oh, that's it, is it!" said Bob. "Sulky, eh? Don't you come none o' them games with me, young fellow, or it will be the worse for yer."
"Yes, so it seems," said Bob sarcastically; "a-sitting there like a gent, and letting me do everything." "Well, let me pull one oar." "No, I can do it, and you shall have some bragfuss presently. I don't want to be took, because you've stole a boat."
For instead of being merry, confidential, and companionable, Bob scarcely opened his lips now without assuming the overbearing bullying tone he had heard so often from his elders. "Come, get on with your bragfuss," said Bob sharply. "We're going on d'rectly, and you've got to pull." "I can't eat much this morning," said Dexter apologetically; "and I'm thirsty."
"There," cried Bob, in a satisfied tone, and with a little of his old manner, "whatcher think o' that? Talk about a place for a bragfuss! Why, it would do to live in."
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