[Dick o’ the Fens by George Manville Fenn]@TWC D-Link bookDick o’ the Fens CHAPTER FOUR 3/7
"Howd hard a minute till I've made fast here.
I'm coming." As he spoke he was busy holding on to the elastic willow branch with one hand, while with the other he drew the rope out of the boat's head, and, with a good deal of labour, managed to pass it round the bough and make it fast. "There, she's all right," he cried, stepping aft carefully, the boat swaying beneath his huge weight.
"Now, squire, I mun lean ower thee to get howd o' the pole.
Eh! but it's a long way to reach, and--" "Mind, man, mind!" cried the squire, "or we shall fill with water; we're within an inch now." "Nay, we sha'n't go down," cried Hickathrift, straining right over the squire and Dick, and sinking the stern of the boat so far that his face kept touching the water, and he had to wrench his head round to speak. "There, I've got howd o' the pole, and one leg hooked under the thwart. Let go, Mester Dick; and you haul him aboard, squire, and get to the other end." It needed cautious movement, for the boat was now so low that the water rushed over; but by exerting his strength the squire dragged Dick away, and together they relieved the stern of the pressure and crept forward. "Now Dave, lad, haul alongside, and make your rope fast to the ring-bolt," cried Hickathrift; and this was done, the punt swung behind, and the great Saxon-like fellow sat up laughing. "Is it all safe ?" cried the squire. "Ay, mester, so long as that bough don't part; but I've got my owd ear full o' watter, and it's a-roonning down my neck.
But say, mester, it's a rum un." "What is, my lad ?" "Why, it wur ony yesday I wur saying to my Jacob as we'd get the poont mended, and come out here with the handbills and brattle [lop] all the willows anywhere nigh, so as to hev a lot to throost down about our plaace to grow.
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