hen you feel you're never going to stop going down, two great
black gates open slowly, slowly--you go out, and there you are on the
canal just like you were before."

"I know," said Mother, "there are locks on the Thames. Father and I used
to go on the river at Marlow before we were married."

"And the dear, darling, ducky baby," said Bobbie; "it let me nurse it
for ages and ages--and it WAS so good. Mother, I wish we had a baby to
play with."

"And everybody was so nice to us," said Phyllis, "everybody we met. And
they say we may fish whenever we like. And Bill is going to show us the
way next time he's in these parts. He says we don't know really."

"He said YOU didn't know," said Peter; "but, Mother, he said he'd tell
all the bargees up and down the canal that we were the real, right sort,
and they were to treat us like good pals, as we were."

"So then I said," Phyllis interrupted, "we'd always each wear a red
ribbon when we went fishing by the canal, so they'd know it was US, and
we were the real, right sort, and be nice to us!"

"So you've made another lot of friends," said Mother; "first the railway
and then the canal!"

"Oh, yes," said Bobbie; "I think everyone in the world is friends if you
can only get them to see you don't want to be UN-friends."

"Perhaps you're right," said Mother; and she sighed. "Come, Chicks. It's
bedtime."

"Yes," said Phyllis. "Oh dear--and we went up there to talk about what
we'd do for Perks's birthday. And we haven't talked a single thing about
it!"

"No more we have," said Bobbie; "but Peter's saved Reginald Horace's
life. I think that's about good enough for one evening."

"Bobbie would have saved him if I hadn't knocked her down; twice I did,"
said Peter, loyally.

"So would I," said Phyllis, "if I'd known what to do."

"Yes," said Mother, "you've saved a little child's life. I do think
that's enough for one evening. Oh, my darlings, thank God YOU'RE all
safe!"

Chapter IX. The pride of Perks.

It was breakfast-time. Mother's face was very bright as she poured the
milk and ladled out the porridge.

"I've sold another story, Chickies," she said; "the one about the King
of the Mussels, so there'll be buns for tea. You can go and get them as
soon as they're baked. About eleven, isn't it?"

Peter, Phyllis, and Bobbie exchanged glances with each other, six
glances in all. Then Bobbie said:--

"Mother, would you mind if we didn't have the buns for tea to-ni