h, my poor darling bairn!" cried Cook, hugging Tizzy to her, as she
ran towards, the river. "I knew it--I knew it! I was always sure my
own dear boy would be drowned."

There was no ill-temper now, for Cook was sobbing hysterically as she
ran, with the tears streaming down her cheeks, till she saw something
taking place on the river which seemed to take all the strength out of
her legs, for she dropped upon her knees now with her lips moving fast,
but not a sound was heard.

The next minute she was hurrying again to the river-bank, towards which
a man was thrusting the stern of the long narrow barge which had been
passing with the heavy long boathook, which had been used to draw poor
Ned out of the water as soon as he had risen to the surface.

Cook reached the bank with the child in her arms just at the same moment
as the man, who leaped off the barge, carrying Ned, whose eyes were
closed and head drooping over the man's shoulder.

"Oh, my poor darling boy!" wailed Cook. "He's dead--he's dead!"

"Not he, missus," cried the bargeman. "I hooked him out too sharp.
Here, hold up, young master. Don't you cry, little missy; he's on'y
swallowed more water than's good for him. Now then, perk up, my lad."

Poor Ned's eyes opened at this, and he stared wildly at the man, then,
as if utterly bewildered, at Cook, and lastly at Tizzy, who clung
sobbing to him, where he had been laid on the grass, streaming with
water.

"Tiz!" he cried faintly.

"Teddy! Teddy!" she wailed. "Oh, don't die! What would poor Mamma
do?"

"Die?" he said confusedly. "Why--what? Here," he cried, as
recollection came back with a rush, "oh, Tizzy, don't say you've lost
the kite!"

"Lost the kite!" cried Cook, furiously now. "Oh, you wicked, wicked
boy! What will your Mar say?"

"As she was precious glad I was a-comin' by," said the man, grinning.
"There: don't scold the youngster, missus. It was all an accident,
wasn't it, squire? But, I say, next time you climb a tree don't you
trust them poplars, for they're as brittle as sere-wood. There: you're
all right now, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Ned. "Did you pull me out?"

"To be sure I did."

"Then there's a threepenny-piece for you," said Ned. "I haven't got any
more."

"Then you put it back in your pocket, my lad, to buy something for your
little sis. I don't want to be paid for that."

"You wait till his poor Mar comes home," cried Cook excitedly, "and I'm
sure she'll gi