, I'm not speedily transformed into a boat."

"What sort of a boat?" cried Julia. "A cutter, to be sure," replied
Master Dicky, and laughing he ran off with his male companions to bring
the provisions ashore.

Meanwhile the uncle and his niece selected a level spot beneath the
umbrageous trees, and prepared for the unpacking of the edibles.

THE PIC-NIC. No. II

Notwithstanding the proverbial variety of the climate, there is no nation
under the sun so fond of Pic-Nic parties as the English; and yet how
seldom are their pleasant dreams of rural repasts in the open air fated
to be realized!

However snugly they may pack the materials for the feast, the pack
generally gets shuffled in the carriage, and consequently their promised
pleasure proves anything but "without mixture without measure."

The jam-tarts are brought to light, and are found to have got a little
jam too much. The bottles are cracked before their time, and the liberal
supplies of pale sherry and old port are turned into a--little current.

They turn out their jar of ghirkins, and find them mixed, and all their
store in a sad pickle.

The leg of mutton is the only thing that has stood in the general melee.

The plates are all dished, and the dishes only fit for a lunatic asylum,
being all literally cracked.

Even the knives and forks are found to ride rusty on the occasion. The
bread is become sop; and they have not even the satisfaction of getting
salt to their porridge, for that is dissolved into briny tears.

Like the provisions, they find themselves uncomfortably hamper'd; for
they generally chuse such a very retired spot, that there is nothing to
be had for love or money in the neighbourhood, for all the shops are as
distant as--ninety-ninth cousins!

However delightful the scenery may be, it is counterbalanced by the
prospect of starvation.

Although on the borders of a stream abounding in fish, they have neither
hook nor line; and even the young gentlemen who sing fail in a catch for
want of the necessary bait. Their spirits are naturally damped by their
disappointment, and their holiday garments by a summer shower; and though
the ducks of the gentlemen take the water as favourably as possible,
every white muslin presently assumes the appearance of a drab, and,
becoming a little limp and dirty, looks as miserable as a lame beggar!

In fine, it is only a donkey or a goose that can reasonably expect to
obtain a comfortable f