ally took
care of them, they began to think it was all over with them and to give
way; but Joe Wilkings roared and shouted at them, and chuckled and
threatened until he had brought them all round again. There wasn't to be
a single bath-chair, or crutch, or even a stick.

Then they got out at the station they had settled on; and old Joe
insisted on their carrying the hampers among them down to the river:
and, what's more, he chose a way across the fields where there were a
lot of stiles to get over; and he made 'em do it, if you'll credit it.
Old George Worble's aunt, Susan's mother, pretended she couldn't, and
sat down and wept: but Joe Wilkings had her on her feet again in a
twinkling; and over she had to go somehow.

[Illustration: "OVER SHE HAD TO GO SOMEHOW."]

Then old Peter Scroutts began to give way and grizzle for his bath-chair
and ear-trumpet, but when old Joe threatened to fight him if he went on
about that nonsense, why, he just had to behave himself.

Our doctor had made up his mind that something dreadful was bound to
come of the whole thing, and sneaked after them by the next train; but
when Joe caught him following them, he was so angry and furious about
it, that the doctor was afraid he would have an apoplectic fit unless he
went away as Joe commanded him to. So he retired; and subsequently
dressed himself as a rustic, and smeared his face so that he might not
be recognised, and hung about the party, offering to carry things, and
so on. But if old Joe Wilkings did not spot him after all; and got in
such a rage that the doctor thought it best to retreat while he had a
whole skin, and get back safely home.

So you see old Joe was a terrible fellow, and that determined it's awful
to think about.

[Illustration: "VERY NEARLY DROWNED."]

Well, they went on the river, and they rowed little races among
themselves; and old Ben Jumper and old Tobias Budd upset their boat,
skylarking--both of 'em being just turned eighty--and went in, and were
very nearly drowned. However, they were hauled out and made to run
about, and taken into a cottage, and rubbed down, and dressed up in
borrowed clothes; and with a good jorum of brandy-and-water apiece, why,
in half an hour they were as right as trivets, if you'll believe me!

The cold collation was a great success; and then the old boys had a
smoke, and were all as jolly as sand-boys. But, suddenly, one of 'em
looked round and said, "Why, where's old Joe Wilkings?