"You leave that to me, missie. And as for dawdlin', why if you understood about canals you 'd know there's times when dawdlin' makes the best speed. Now just you bear in mind the number o' things I've got to think of. First, we'll say, there's you an' the boy. Well, who's goin' to look for you here, aboard an innercent boat laid here between locks an' waitin' till the full of her cargo comes down to Tizzer's Green wharf or Ibbetson's? Next"--he checked off the items on his fingers--"there's the Mortimers. In duty to 'Ucks, I got to choose Mortimer a pitch where he'll draw a 'ouse. Bein' new to this job, I'd like your opinion; but where, thinks I, 'll he likelier draw a 'ouse than at Tizzer's Green yonder?--two thousand op'ratives, an' I doubt if the place has ever seen a travellin' theayter since it started to grow. Anyway, Mortimer has been pushin' inquiries: an' that makes Secondly. Thirdly, I don't know much about play-actors, but Mortimer tells me he gets goin' at seven-thirty an' holds 'em spellbound till something after ten; which means that by the time we've carted back the scenery _an'_ shipped _an'_ stowed it, _an'_ got the tarpaulins on, _an'_ harnessed up, we shan't get much change out o' midnight. Don't lose your patience now, because we haven't come to the end of it yet--not by a long way. By midnight, say, we get started an' haul up to Knowlsey top lock, which is a matter of three miles. What do we find there?" "Dunno," said Tilda wearily. "A brass band per'aps, an' a nillumynated address, congratylatin' yer." Sam ignored this sarcasm. "We find, likely as not, a dozen boats hauled up for the night, blockin' the fairway, an' all the crews ashore at the 'Ring o' Bells' or the 'Lone Woman,' where they doss an' where the stablin' is. Not a chance for us to get through before mornin'; an' then in a crowd with everybody wantin' to know what Sam Bossom's doin' with two children aboard. Whereas," he concluded, "if we time ourselves to reach Knowlsey by seven in the mornin', they'll all have locked through an' left the coast clear." Said Tilda, still contemptuous-- "I 'd like to turn Bill loose on this navigation o' yours, as you call it." "Oo's Bill?" "He works the engine on Gavel's roundabouts; an' he's the best an' the cleverest man in the world." "Unappre'shated, I spose?" "Why if you 'ad Bill aboard this boat, in less'n a workin' day he'd 'ave her fixed up with boiler an' engine complete, an' be drivin' her like a train." Mr. Bossom grinned. "I'd like to see 'im twenty minutes later, just to congratilate 'im. You see, missie, a boat can't go faster than the water travels past 'er--which is rhyme, though I made it myself, an' likewise reason. Can she, now?" "I s'pose not," Tilda admitted doubtfully.