"Why, it's like a dream--it can't be real!" Then, as the boatmen
renewed their begging, "I wonder which barge gentleman I had
better hire."
"Take the little boy, please." Edith called to an urchin who was
manfully struggling with a pair of oars twice his own length,
whereupon the older boatmen began to shove off with many scowls
and much grumbling.
"Our choice has offended these genial bandits," Kirk observed as
he helped her to a seat. "When shall we tell the lad to bring us
off?"
"Four o'clock," answered Mrs. Cortlandt. "I arranged with the
captain to be ready at that hour, so, you see, we have the whole
day ahead of us."
Across the limpid shallows they glided, bravely propelled by their
nine-year-old oarsman, but when the bow of their skiff grated upon
the bottom they were still some yards from the shore.
"Looks as if we'd have to wade," said Kirk, then called to one of
the near-by boatmen to lend the child a hand. But the fellow
replied gruffly in some unintelligible jargon.
"He says he carries HIS passengers ashore in his arms," Edith
translated.
"Really? Competition is spirited even on this heavenly isle. Well,
that's easy!" Anthony untied his low shoes, kicked them off, and
rolled up his trousers.
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