See those girls over there by that funny flat sort of boat. They
are going to get on it. Come, let us go down and watch them."
They clambered down and were soon on the brink of the river. Two or
three girls, much older than Dimple and Florence, were pulling a small
flat barge up on the sands. One of the girls recognized Dimple. "Hallo,
Eleanor," she cried. "Where did you come from? Don't you want to get on
with us?"
"Oh, do let us," whispered Florence.
"Are you going out on the river?" asked Dimple.
"No, we are only going to get on this flat boat, and sit here where we
can get the breeze, and maybe we will fish. We brought some tackle along
with us. Come, give me your hand. There, you are landed. Come, little
girl, there is plenty of room." She held out her hand to Florence, who
eagerly accepted the invitation, and was soon by her cousin's side.
"Isn't it nice?" said Dimple.
"Fine," Florence responded, heartily, as she sat down in the bottom of
the boat.
"It's rather sunny, though," Dimple remarked.
"Oh, you mustn't mind that. We're going to fish. Don't you want to try
your luck?"
Dimple looked rather disgustedly at the can of angle-worms and decided
that she would look on.
"What are you going to do, Libbie?" Dimple's acquaintance inquired of
one of the other girls.
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