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“Ugh, how wet I am!” said Johnny, and then,,Evenings we knew,,Gray-haired, delicate, with sorrowful eyes and long, white hands, Uncle Isaac sat in his big, carved, oaken chair.,Then Johnny Blossom sprang into a run and dashed homeward. My, oh, my! How astonished the family would be over such a magnificent fishing rod!,There was something else he wished to ask, but he scarcely liked to—perhaps it was silly. Well, he could ask Mother about it, though he wouldn’t ask any one else in the whole world.,“No good do that,” a quiet voice came to them from right beside them in the shadow of the doorway.,“We might as well be going,” said Jerry. “Hop in.” He was already at the oars, which he had tied securely to the oarlocks. The wisdom of this precaution was later to be proved to them. Once Bob was in, Jerry pulled off. He was a fair oarsman and going with the current the boat made good time. At this point the river was broad and, except for the towering hills which rose in the distance, it might have been a peaceful tributary stream of any civilized river. Its calm surface gave no warning of what was to come in the way of rapids and whirlpools. After a bit Bob took the oars and as he had had more experience with boats he made even better time than Jerry had. Turn by turn they went through the morning.,Yes, the apple boat. It was painted green as it had been last year; the sails were patched; the poorest apples lay in heaps on the deck, the medium sort were in bags, and the best apples were in baskets. In the midst of this tempting abundance Mrs. Lind, who was uncommonly stout, usually sat, knitting. When her husband was up in town delivering apples Mrs. Lind took care of the boat, the apples, and Nils and everything. Nils, their son, was more to look after than all the rest put together, for he was the worst scalawag to be found along the whole coast.,“It is horrid, but”—great searching first in one pocket of his trousers, then in the other—“but if you will please take this report back”—,The rest was "nought but leather and prunella.",Below the veranda at Kingthorpe an avenue of nut trees stretched a long way. The foliage was so thick that the avenue was always in deep shade, however bright the day. Not a sunbeam pierced the gloom, but far down at the end of the avenue, something shone like a big glittering eye. That was the sea shining.,“Catch that boat-hook there!” he shouted, as it floated almost to the edge of the wharf..