PETER PIPKINS AND FUNGUS THE FERRY MAN. 87

stream. It was a very small boat, and the man who sat in it
was extremely tiny. He had a humped back, and lone black hair,
and fierce eyes, and a white face. But it was too dark for the
children to see how ugly he was, and they were delighted to hear
his voice.

“Tm Fungus the ferryman,” he called to them. “Do you
want me to ferry you across to Castle Dangerous?”

“Oh yes! oh yes!” they all exclaimed— oh, please be quick ;
we are so tired and sleepy.”

“ And so am I,” growled the little man. “I have been wait-
ing here for you in the middle of this nasty stream the whole of
the night. I am very angry with you—very angry indeed.”

“ Please forgive us, ferryman,” said Buttercup. “We did not
know you were waiting, or we’d have run all the way.”

“ Children always are thoughtless,” said the ferryman, but he
did not speak quite so crossly, and rowed his boat carefully to
the edge of the stream.

“You must get in with great care,’ he said to the children.
“Only one of you at a time, please. And when you are in the
boat you must neither move nor speak, for the boat is so small
and the water so rough that the slightest thing will upset it. I
think it right to tell you that this water belongs to certain little
men who have a spite against children, and that no child ever yet
fell into this stream who was not drowned.”

This news was terrible to the poor little travellers, and Prim-
rose felt inclined, even at the last moment, to pull Buttercup back
by force, and not allow him to enter the charmed boat; but the
little fellow did not seem to have a particle of fear. He ran down
the narrow path and was the very first to get in.

There was nothing, therefore, for Primrose to do but to
follow him.

When the six children were in the boat it sank so low in the
water that it was almost on a level with the angry rushing stream,
but the ferryman assured the children that if they remained motion-
less there was not the least fear.