True, he was well paid for rowing them, and he was glad of
the money, but, ungrateful little lad that he was, he most unwillingly
waited for Rose and Polly.
"I'd 'nough rather be fishing," he grumbled, but aloud he said:
"Come on!"
They followed him, clambered into the boat, and soon were out on the
water, singing a pretty boating song that Uncle John had taught them:
"Floating, floating over the sea,
Blithe of heart and gay are we.
Riding lightly over the foam,
O'er the sea 'tis joy to roam."
"I b'lieve I could row," said Rose.
"Huh! Girls can't do much," said Donald roughly.
"Girls CAN!" cried Polly, vexed that the boy should annoy Rose.
"Huh! Not MUCH!" he replied.
He was not in the least interested in their merry chatter. He felt sure
that small girls were of no use.
He talked very loudly of lines, spars, windlass and davits. To be sure,
he did not know one from the other, but then he knew that the little
girls did not know, and he hoped to impress them.
"What ARE those things?" Polly asked, when he had been talking for some
time, and constantly using names that they did not know.
"Oh, a man couldn't tell girls so they'd understand," said Donald,
squaring his shoulders and trying to look as large as possible.
"A MAN!" cried Polly, and although neither had meant to do it, both
laughed merrily.
Donald was angry, too angry to reply, but under his breath he muttered:
"Laugh if ye want ter, but I'll get even!"
It was in vain that Rose and Polly tried to talk with him.
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