Part 2 (1/2)

Then Mansy threw the line, trying to catch it in the branches, and nearly overbalanced herself into the water.

”The rockety thing!” she exclaimed, half in alarm and half in contempt.

”I feared it 'ud go over.”

”It's all right, Mansy, if you sit still,” said Alfy; ”but try and paddle it with the umbrella to the tree.”

So they both endeavoured to float it in the desired direction, and at length Alfy thought he might venture to throw the rope. He did so, and with some good effect, for it fell over a branch, and, though it did not wind tightly round and had no firm hold, he could just give the tub a bias in that direction.

After plying his paddles with fairly good result for a little time, he drew in the rope, and again launched it forth at the tree top. Again he was, to some extent, successful, and in a few minutes he was able to float the tub in among the branches.

”Here we are!” he cried, ”quite like the baby in the nursery rhyme--'Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top,' you know, eh, Mansy dear?

Now we will tie the tub firmly to the branches, so that there will be no fear of floating away!”

”You have managed well, Master Alfy,” said Mansy, admiringly.

”Oh, but it was your idea; and look, we are not so very far from the house!”

”I wish we were there!” sighed Mansy.

”So do I,” said Alfy, ”but, Mansy dear, I really am very hungry, and you said you had something to eat in those packages!”

”And so I have,” replied his old nurse. ”Dear boy, you must be hungry.

I suppose the girls have something left?”

”Oh yes, quite enough for another meal, I should think! I wish we could let them know we are safe, and not so very far away.”

”Burn a light; I have some matches and a little spirit lamp. I bought it with some other things yesterday, thinking it might be handy in the summer, when the kitchen fire was out, to boil a little water.”

”Oh, what fun!” cried Alfy. ”We are just like wrecked sailors or something, near a desert island! We'll burn some of the papers round the parcels to make a great flare.”

So the lamp was lit, and the papers burned, and Alfy waved the flimsy, flaming torch bravely for a minute or so, that the watchers in the island house might just catch a glimpse of them and of their position.

An answering light was soon flashed back by the girls, so they knew that their own had been seen.

”Now we will take some of this tongue,” said Mansy, producing the tin in which it was preserved, ”Lucky I got the young man in the shop to open it. But what about a knife to cut it?”

”Won't this do?” asked Alfy, producing his pocket-knife. ”At all events, it is better than nothing.”

”Why, bless the boy! so it is; but I am afraid it won't do very well.

Howsomdever, we'll make the best of it!”

”Perhaps I can manage it better than you, Mansy,” suggested Alfy. ”I am more used to it, you know; and really it is a splendid knife when you know how to use it.”

”Yes, I should think so, _when_ you know how to use it, my dear, but I cannot do very much with it in cutting nice slices!”

”Oh, never mind the nice slices, if we can get some nice mouthfuls,”

laughed the boy. And he proceeded to cut some small slips off the top of the tongue with great facility, considering the unsuitability of the small pocket-knife for the purpose.

”Capital!” cried his nurse, as Alfy handed her a few of the small slices, and then she produced some biscuits, and Alfy and Mansy made quite an enjoyable meal.