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I should not be a bit surprised, William, if after you have been two or three times on the lake you will ask me yes, positively ask me to take you out on the bay!" Mr. Podington smiled, and leaning backward, he looked up at the beautiful blue sky. "You can't give me anything better than this, Thomas," said he; "but you needn't think I am weakening; you drove with me, and I will sail with you."
"Yes," was the answer; "it did seem so." "Oh, that was a trace," said Podington; "I don't want that; the reins are thinner and lighter." "Now I remember they are," said Buller. "I'll go down again." Again Mr. Buller leaned over the dashboard, and this time he remained down longer, and when he came up he puffed and sputtered more than before.
"I haven't a knife," replied Podington. Mr. Buller was terribly frightened; his boat was cutting through the water as never vessel of her class had sped since sail-boats were invented, and bumping against the bank as if she were a billiard-ball rebounding from the edge of a table. He forgot he was in a boat; he only knew that for the first time in his life he was in a runaway.
Podington had just repeated his annual invitation, his friend replied to him thus: "William, if I come to see you this summer, will you visit me? The thing is beginning to look a little ridiculous, and people are talking about it." Mr. Podington put his hand to his brow and for a few moments closed his eyes.
They strolled on the beach, they took long walks in the back country, they fished from the end of a pier, they smoked, they talked, and were happy and content. "Thomas," said Mr. Podington, on the last evening of his stay, "I have enjoyed myself very much since I have been down here, and now, Thomas, if I were to come down again next summer, would you mind would you mind, not "
He let go the tiller. It was of no use to him. "William," he cried, "let us jump out the next time we are near enough to shore!" "Don't do that! Don't do that!" replied Podington. "Don't jump out in a runaway; that is the way to get hurt. Stick to your seat, my boy; he can't keep this up much longer. He'll lose his wind!" Mr. Podington was greatly excited, but he was not frightened, as Buller was.
"Put her across stream!" he shouted; "she can't make headway against this current. Head her to that clump of trees on the other side; the bank is lower there, and we can beach her. Move a little the other way, we must trim boat. Now then, pull on your starboard rein." Podington obeyed, and the horse slightly changed his direction.
Buller joyfully returned to his boat with the intelligence that they were not to wait for the canal-boats. A long rope, with a horse attached to the other end of it, was speedily made fast to the boat, and with a boy at the head of the horse, they started up the canal. "Now this is the kind of sailing I like," said Mr. Podington.
"I should think so," replied his friend; "if you have got to be wet, it is a great deal pleasanter under the water." There was a field-road on this side of the pond which Podington well knew, and proceeding along this they came to the bridge and got into the main road. "Now we must get home as fast as we can," cried Podington, "or we shall both take cold. I wish I hadn't lost my whip. Hi now!
About three miles back of us there is a very pretty lake several miles long. It is part of the canal system which connects the town with the railroad. I have sent my boat to the town, and we can walk up there and go by the canal to the lake; it is only about three miles." If he had to sail at all, this kind of sailing suited Mr. Podington.
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