we took it instead of the breakfast we
should otherwise have eaten. We felt that earth-nuts might not be
forthcoming on the canal banks, or even on the wharf at Nine Elms when
we reached London.

At about a quarter to six Johnson's wharf was quite deserted. The
barge-master was having breakfast ashore, and the second man had gone
to the stable. "We had better hide ourselves now," I said. So we crept
out and went on board. We had chosen our hiding-place before. Not in
the cabin, of course, nor among the cargo, where something extra
thrown in at the last moment might smother us if it did not lead to
our discovery, but in the fore part of the boat, in a sort of well or
_hold_, where odd things belonging to the barge itself were stowed
away, and made sheltered nooks into which we could creep out of sight.
Here we found a very convenient corner, and squatted down, with the
pie at our feet, behind a hamper, a box, a coil of rope, a sack of
hay, and a very large ball, crossed four ways with rope, and with a
rope-tail, which puzzled me extremely.

"It's like a giant tadpole," I whispered to Fred.

"Don't nudge me," said Fred. "My pockets are full, and it hurts."

_My_ pockets were far from light. The money-bag was heavily laden
with change--small in value but large in coin. The box of matches was
with it and the knife. String, nails, my prayer-book, a pencil, some
writing-paper, the handbook, and a more useful hammer than the one in
my tool-box filled another pocket. Some gooseberries and a piece of
cake were in my trousers, and I carried the tool-box in my hands. We
each had a change of linen, tied up in a pocket-handkerchief. Fred
would allow of nothing else. He said that when our jackets and
trousers were worn out we must make new clothes out of an old sail.

Waiting is very dull work. After awhile, however, we heard voices, and
the tramp of the horse, and then the barge-master and Mr. Johnson's
foreman and other men kept coming and going on deck, and for a quarter
of an hour we had as many hairbreadth escapes of discovery as the
captain himself could have had in the circumstances. At last somebody
threw the barge-master a bag of something (fortunately soft) which he
was leaving behind, and which he chucked on to the top of my head.
Then the driver called to his horse, and the barge gave a jerk, which
threw Fred on to the pie, and in a moment more we were gliding slowly
and smoothly down the stream.

When we were fair