"Come on Fastred, you're yellower than a baby chicken!"
"I am not!"
"Are too."
"Am not! Mam said we weren't to go into the river without an adult there to watch us."
"What are you, afraid of a little water? Is little baby Fastred afraid of getting his foot-hair wet? Hey --! Don't ... shove...me!"
"Don't shove me! You heard what she said as well as I did, that we'd both get a hiding if we came back with so much as our toes dripping."
"Well it looks like raining soon, so I don't see how that can be avoided; besides, we're going boating, not swimming. How much danger could it be?"
Fastred frowned.
"And besides, think of how grateful Mam will be for bringing her home some fish to cook up for dinner."
Fastred frowned again, wavering; the water looked smooth like rock, grey-slate with layered ripples that seemed almost to be floating upstream rather than down. The boat looked like the carcass of some giant creature washed up on the shore; something from Mr Baggins' tales -- old and hoary, dried river-weeds stuck to the worn belly of it like green-grey foot hair.
"Come on, then," Jacky grinned, sliding his fingers under the lip at one end. Fastred frowned one last time -- nothing good would come of this, except perhaps a few fish, if they were lucky -- and helped his brother heave it over.
~