them here?"

"So I did, Master Harry; you're right, I did."

"Oh! hooray!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!" shouted Phil.

"Hurray!" said Fred, hardly knowing why, but cheering because the others
did. And then out came the Squire, and out came Mrs Inglis, and out
came the eels, and out came the praises, and out came Bob's half-crown;
and the next day when those fish were cooked, the Squire declared that
this was the best trout he had ever tasted; and as to the eels, why they
were the richest, nicest, and best eels that were ever eaten, and no one
enjoyed them better than the boys who had had so much difficulty in
gaining them for a prize.

CHAPTER FIVE.

BUYING A NEW WATER-BOTTLE.

And now one morning, as soon as it was daylight, Harry jumped out of bed
and ran to his brother's, and with one whisk dragged everything off--
sheet, blankets, counterpane, and almost Philip, and then the young
ruffian rushed into Fred's room, served him in the same way, and
narrowly escaped a crack on the head from his cousin's boot, which was
sent flying after him as he ran, but hit the wall instead, and then fell
toe foremost into the big wash hand jug, that seemed as if it stood
there on purpose to catch it.

"Jump up, boys; why it's ever so late, I believe," said Harry. "I'll go
and see what time it is. Shrimping day!"

Directly after Harry reappeared in Fred's room, and found Philip there.

"I say, the clock's stopped in the night; it wants a quarter to four by
that old stupid thing on the staircase. I'll go down to the dining-room
and see there; I know it's half-past seven, and everybody is lying in
bed because Papa said we should all start in good time for the sands.
Don't I wish I was behind old Sam! Shouldn't I like to put a wasp in
his bed!"

He then slipped quietly down to the dining-room. All was still; the
blinds drawn down, but the room was light enough for him to see the
hands upon the face of the little timepiece over the fireplace.

"Ten minutes to four," said the clock.

"All the clocks are wrong," said Harry, pettishly. "It must be late. I
know it is. I'll go in the kitchen."

So off he went, pat, pat, with his bare feet over the oilcloth, and then
upon the sandy stones in the kitchen. Plenty of light there, and the
old Dutch clock plainly to be seen, only the pendulum stood still, and
the weights had run down; for cook had forgotten to draw them up on the
previous night. "Quarter to twelve," said