us when he has his vacation; we are going to have high old times
fishing and boating. Up or down?” asked Jack, as they glided out
into the river.
Gus looked both ways, and seeing another boat with a glimpse of
red in it just going round the bend, answered, with decision, “Up,
of course. Don’t we always pull to the bridge?”
“Not when the girls are going down,” laughed Jack, who had
recognized Juliet’s scarlet boating-suit as he glanced over his
shoulder.
“Mind what you are about, and don’t gabble,” commanded Captain
Frank, as the crew bent to their oars and the slender boat cut
through the water leaving a long furrow trembling behind.
“Oh, ah! I see! There is a blue jacket as well as a red one, so it’s all
right.
“Lady Queen Anne, she sits in the sun,
As white as a lily, as brown as a bun,”
sung Jack, recovering his spirits, and wishing Jill was there too.
“Do you want a ducking?” sternly demanded Gus, anxious to
preserve discipline.
“Shouldn’tmind, its so warm.”
But Jack said no more, and soon the “Rhodora” was alongside the
“Water Witch,” exchanging greetings in the most amiable manner.
“Pity this boat won’t hold four. We’d put Jack in yours, and take
you girls a nice spin up to the Hemlocks,” said Frank, whose idea
of bliss was floating down the river with Annette as coxswain.
“You’d better come in here, this will hold four, and we are tired of
rowing,” returned the “Water Witch,” so invitingly that Gus could
not resist.
“I don’t think it is safe to put four in there. You’d better change
places with Annette, Gus, and then we shall be ship-shape,” said
Frank, answering a telegram from the eyes that matched the blue
jacket.
“Wouldn’t it be more ship-shape still if you put me ashore at Grif’s
landing? I can take his boat, or wait till you come back. Don’t care
what I’d o,” said Jack, feeling himself sadly in the way.
The good-natured offer being accepted with thanks, the changes
were made, and, leaving him behind, the two boats went gayly up
the river. He really did not care what he did, so sat in Grif’s boat
awhile watching the red sky, the shining stream, and the low green
meadows, where the blackbirds were singing as if they too had met
their little sweethearts and were happy.
Jack remembered that quiet half-hour long afterward, because
what followed seemed to impress it on his memory. As he sat
enjoying the scene, he very naturally thought about Ed; for the face
of the sister whom he saw was very anxious, and the word “fever”
recalled the hard times when Frank was ill, particularly the night it
was thought the boy would not live till dawn, and Jack cried
himself to sleep, wondering how he ever could get on without his
brother. Ed was almost as dear to him, and the thought that he was
suffering destroyed Jack’s pleasure for a little while. But,
fortunately, young people do not know how to be anxious very
long, so our boy soon cheered up, thinking about the late match
between the Stars and the Lincoins, and after a good rest went
whistling home, with a handful of mint for Mrs. Pecq, and played
games with Jill as merrily as if there was no such thing as care in
the world.
Next day Ed was worse, and for a week the answer was the same,
when Jack crept to the back door with his eager question.
Others came also, for the dear boy lying upstairs had friends
everywhere, and older neighbors thought of him even more
anxiously and tenderly than his mates. It was not fever, but some
swifter trouble, for when Saturday night came, Ed had gone home
to a longer and more peaceful Sabbath than any he had ever known
in this world.
Jack had been there in the afternoon, and a kind message had
come down to him that his friend was not suffering so much, and
he had gone away, hoping, in his boyish ignorance, that all danger
was over. An hour later he was reading in the parlor, having no