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Updated: June 4, 2025
Thus they reached the town, where Buller bought a hat, Podington dispensed with his bundle, and arrangements were made to bring back the boat. "Runaway in a sailboat!" exclaimed one of the canal boatmen when he had heard about the accident. "Upon my word! That beats anything that could happen to a man!" "No, it doesn't," replied Mr. Buller, quietly.
The information that it would be impossible to upset the little vessel had greatly cheered him, and he could laugh. Shortly after breakfast Mr. Buller, like a nurse with a dose of medicine, came to Mr. Podington with the expected invitation to take a sail.
Podington was very fond of horses and always drove himself, while Buller was more afraid of horses than he was of elephants or lions.
Get along!" Podington was now full of life and energy, his wheels were on the hard road, and he was himself again. When he found his head was turned toward his home, the horse set off at a great rate. "Hi there!" cried Podington. "I am so sorry I lost my whip." "Whip!" said Buller, holding fast to the side of the seat; "surely you don't want him to go any faster than this.
"William," said he, "how long have you had this horse?" "About two years," said Mr. Podington; "before I got him, I used to drive a pair." "Heavens!" thought Buller, "how lucky I was not to come two years ago!" And his regrets for not sooner visiting his friend greatly decreased.
"Of course it is different," was the reply, "but I am obliged to say, as I said before, that I really cannot accept it." Remarks similar to these had been made by Thomas Buller and William Podington at least once a year for some five years. They were old friends; they had been schoolboys together and had been associated in business since they were young men.
The boat bumped harder against the bank, and at one time Buller thought they could turn over. Suddenly a thought struck him. "William," he shouted, "tip that anchor over the side! Throw it in, any way!" Mr. Podington looked about him, and, almost under his feet, saw the anchor. He did not instantly comprehend why Buller wanted it thrown overboard, but this was not a time to ask questions.
There was a train for his home at a quarter past seven; if he were not on the premises he could not be asked to sail. If Buller's boat were a little, flimsy thing, he would take that train but he would wait and see. There was only one small boat anchored near the beach, and a man apparently a fisherman informed Mr. Podington that it belonged to Mr. Buller.
"It is lovely," said his friend; "I never get tired of driving through this country. Of course the seaside is very fine, but here we have such a variety of scenery." Mr. Buller could not help thinking that sometimes the seaside was a little monotonous, and that he had lost a great deal of pleasure by not varying his summers by going up to spend a week or two with Podington.
"But look here, William," exclaimed Buller, "it will get there just as we do; no horse could stand a roaring up in the air like that!" Podington laughed. "He would not mind it in the least," said he. "Come, come now," cried Buller. "Really, I can't stand this! Just stop a minute, William, and let me get out. It sets all my nerves quivering." Mr. Podington smiled with a superior smile.
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