A SURREY RIVER. 129 



grounds, but it was their last. Some splendid bul- 

 rushes grew in this part of the river-side, and Soldier 

 Will had promised to secure some of these for a 

 friend who wanted them for purposes of ornament 

 or decoration. The cantankerous old farmer got 

 wind of the pair, and having told his people not to 

 go into the meadows, he turned his bull loose there. 

 The two friends had done some fishing, and with 

 their baskets and a bundle of bulrushes on Soldier 

 Will's back, they came from the shelter of the banks 

 up into the open meadows, congratulating each other 

 on the way they had " done " Old Crab-apple. All at 

 once a sound like distant thunder fell on their ears. 



" Dickey, my boy," said Will, " we've left off fish- 

 ing none too soon ; there's thunder about." 



" That's no thunder," answered Dickey ; and look- 

 ing round he saw the bull charging across the mead- 

 ows in their direction. " Look ! it's the bull ! " yelled 

 he. One glance, off went the bundle of bulrushes. 

 " The river ! " shrieked Dickey " the river, Soldier ! " 



Down the bank they rushed ; through the tangle 

 and into the water, where they floundered through, 

 shoulder - deep, fish and all, and up the opposite 

 bank : there they sat down, gasping. 

 I 



