I
‘HEIGH, boys!’ cried Grandfather Bridgeman, ‘it’s time before dinner
to-day.’
He lifted the crumpled letter, and thumped a surprising ‘Hurrah!’
Up jumped all the echoing young ones, but John, with the starch in his
throat,
Said, ‘Father, before we make noises, let’s see the contents of the
note.’
The old man glared at him harshly, and twinkling made answer: ‘Too
bad!
John Bridgeman, I’m always the whisky, and you are the water, my lad!’