"Oh, I say, Mr Manners, play fair!" cried Josh. "Why, I'm sure that we've behaved beautifully lately." "Very," cried the artist. "Why, you young dogs, I've watched you! You've both been sitting on mischief eggs for weeks. It isn't your fault that they didn't hatch." "Doing what?" cried Josh. "Well, trying to scheme some new prank. Only you've used up all your stuff, and couldn't think one out." The boys exchanged glances, and there was a peculiar twinkle in their eyes, a look that the artist interpreted, and knew that he had judged aright. "But you'll be down again in the spring, Mr Manners?" cried Will. "I hope so, my lad. I've grown to look upon Beldale as my second home. I say, you'll come and help me pack my canvases?" "Of course! Are you going to stick up your toadstool to-day?" "No; it's going to rain again. It has been raining in the night up in the hills." "Yes," said Josh; "the big fall is coming down with a regular roar." "But what about the dam?" said the artist. "Full, as it ought to be; they're going to open the upper sluice." "When?" said Manners. "This afternoon," cried Will. "Ah, I'll come and see it done. And about my canvases: I must have some pieces of wood to nail round and hold them together." "As you did last time?" said Will. "Well, old Boil O did that. Won't you let him do it again?" "I've been after him twice, and whenever I spoke he turned away. Suppose I come down to the mill workshop. We can cut some strong laths there." "Of course," said Will; "this afternoon, when we've seen them open the sluice." "Good," said the artist. "I will be there; but look here, let's carry the canvases down; there are only twelve. Nothing like the present. I'll bring them now." "You mean, we'll take them now," said Will, correctively. The matter was arranged by their taking four each. "Going to take them below to the mill to pack, Mrs Drinkwater," said Manners, as they went down the path. "Dear, dear, sir," said the woman, sadly; "it seems so early, and it'll be very dull when you're gone." "Next spring will soon come, Mrs Drinkwater," said Manners, cheerily; and the trio strolled on together, to come, at the angle of the second zig-zag, plump upon Drinkwater, with one arm round a birch trunk, his right hand to his shaggy brow, leaning away from the path as far as he could, as if gazing down at the dam. "Morning, Drinkwater," cried Manners, cheerily. The man started violently, stared at the canvases, then at their bearer, and hurried away in amongst the trees. "Nice cheerful party that to live with, lads," said the artist, laughingly. "Only fancy being his wife!" "Yes," said Josh; "and now you see if he don't turn worse than ever. I know." "Know what?" said Will. "He'll be as disagreeable as possible, because he's not going to nail up the canvases, and lay it all on his poor wife."