Read The Bobbsey Twins at the Seashore Page 8


  CHAPTER VIII

  EXPLORING--A RACE FOR POND LILIES

  "Now let's explore," Bert said to the girls the next morning. "Wehaven't had a chance yet to see the lake, the woods, or the island."

  "Hal Bingham is coming over to see you this morning," Dorothy toldBert. "He said you must be tired toting girls around, and he knowseverything interesting around here to show you."

  "Glad of it," said Bert. "You girls are very nice, of course, but aboy needs another fellow in a place like this," and he swung himselfover the rail of the veranda, instead of walking down the steps.

  It was quite early, for there was so much planned, to be accomplishedbefore the sun got too hot, that all the children kept to theirpromise to get up early, and be ready for the day's fun by seveno'clock. The girls, with Mrs. Bobbsey, Mrs. Minturn, and Freddie,were to go shell hunting, but as Bert had taken that trip with hisfather on the first morning after their arrival, he preferred to lookover the woods and lake at the back of the Minturn home, where theland slid down from the rough cliff upon which the house stood.

  "Here comes Hal now," called Dorothy, as a boy came whistling up thepath. He was taller than Bert, but not much older, and he had a very"jolly squint" in his black eyes; that is, Dorothy called it a "jollysquint," but other people said it was merely a twinkle. But allagreed that Hal was a real boy, the greatest compliment that could bepaid him.

  There was not much need of an introduction, although Dorothy did calldown from the porch, "Bert that's Hal; Hal that's Bert," to whichannouncement the boys called back, "All right, Dorothy. We'll getalong."

  "Have you been on the lake yet?" Hal asked, as they started down thegreen stretch that bounded the pretty lake on one side, while a stripof woodland pressed close to the edge across the sheet of water.

  "No," Bert answered, "we have had so much coming and going to thedepot since we came down, I couldn't get a chance to look around much.It's an awfully pretty lake, isn't it?"

  "Yes, and it runs in and out for miles," Hal replied. "I have a canoedown here at our boathouse. Let's take a sail."

  The Bingham property, like the Minturn, was on a cliff at the front,and ran back to the lake, where the little boathouse was situated.The house was made of cedars, bound together in rustic fashion, andhad comfortable seats inside for ladies to keep out of the sun whilewaiting for a sail.

  "Father and I built this house," Hal told Bert. "We were waiting solong for the carpenters, we finally got a man to bring these cedars infrom Oakland. Then we had him cut them, that is, the line ofuprights, and we built the boathouse without any trouble at all. Itwas sport to arrange all the little turns and twists, like building ablock house in the nursery."

  "You certainly made a good job of it," said Bert, looking criticallyover the boathouse.

  "It's all in the design, of course; the nailing together is theeasiest part."

  "You might think so," said Hal, "but it's hard to drive a nail inround cedar. But we thought it so interesting, we didn't mind thetrouble," finished Hal, as he prepared to untie his canoe.

  "What a pretty boat!" exclaimed Bert, in real admiration.

  The canoe was green and brown, the body being colored like bark, whileinside, the lining was of pale green. The name, _Dorothy_, shone inrustic letters just above the water edge.

  "And you called it _Dorothy_," Bert remarked.

  "Yes, she's the liveliest girl I know, and a good friend of mine allsummer," said Hal. "There are some boys down the avenue, but theydon't know as much about good times as Dorothy does. Why, she canswim, row, paddle, climb trees, and goes in for almost any sportthat's on. Last week she swam so far in the sun she couldn't touch anoar or paddle for days, her arms were so blistered. But she didn't goaround with her hands in a muff at that. Dorothy's all right,"finished Hal.

  Bert liked to hear his cousin complimented, especially when he hadsuch admiration himself for the girl who never pouted, and he knewthat the tribute did not in any way take from Dorothy's other goodquality, that of being a refined and cultured girl.

  "Girls don't have to be babies to be ladylike," added Bert. "Nanalways plays ball with me, and can skate and all that. She's notafraid of a snowball, either."

  "Well, I'm all alone," said Hal. "Haven't even got a first cousin.We've been coming down here since I was a youngster, so that's whyDorothy seems like my sister. We used to make mud pies together."

  The boys were in the canoe now, and each took a paddle. The water wasso smooth that the paddles merely patted it, like "brushing a cat'sback," Bert said, and soon the little bark was gliding along down thelake, in and out of the turns, until the "narrows" were reached.

  "Here's where we get our pond lilies," said Hal.

  "Oh, let's get some!" exclaimed Bert. "Mother is so fond of them."

  It was not difficult to gather the beautiful blooms, that nested socosily on the cool waters, too fond of their cradle to ever want tocreep, or walk upon their slender green limbs. They just rockedthere, with every tiny ripple of the water, and only woke up to seethe warm sunlight bleaching their dainty, yellow heads.

  "Aren't they fragrant?" said Bert, as he put one after the other intothe bottom of the canoe.

  "There's nothing like them," declared Hal. "Some people like rosesbest, but give me the pretty pond lilies," he finished.

  The morning passed quickly, for there was so much to see around thelake. Wild ducks tried to find out how near they could go to thewater without touching it, and occasionally one would splash in, byaccident.

  "What large birds there are around the sea," Bert remarked. "Isuppose they have to be big and strong to stand long trips withoutfood when the waves are very rough and they can hardly see fish."

  "Yes, and they have such fine plumage," said Hal. "I've seen birdsaround here just like those in museums, all colors, and with all kindsof feathers--Birds of Paradise, I guess they call them."

  "Do you ever go shooting?"

  "No, not in summer time," replied Hal. "But sometimes father and Itake a run down here about Thanksgiving. That's the time for seasidesport. Why, last year we fished with rakes; just raked the fish up inpiles--'frosties,' they call them."

  "That must be fun," reflected Bert.

  "Maybe you could come this year," continued Hal. "We might make up aparty, if you have school vacation for a week. We could camp out inour house, and get our meals at the hotel."

  "That would be fine!" exclaimed Bert. "Maybe Uncle William wouldcome, and perhaps my Cousin Harry, from Meadow Brook. He loves thatsort of sport. By the way, we expect him down for a few days; perhapsnext week."

  "Good!" cried Hal. "The boat carnival is on next week. I'm sure hewould enjoy that."

  The boys were back at the boathouse now, and Bert gathered up his pondlilies.

  "There'll be a scramble for them when the girls see them," he said."Nellie McLaughlin, next to Dorothy, is out for fun. She is not a bitlike a sick girl."

  "Perhaps she isn't sick now," said Hal, "but has to be careful. Sheseems quite thin."

  "Mother says she wants fun, more than medicine," went on Bert. "Iguess she had to go to work because her father is away at sea. He'sbeen gone a year and he only expected to be away six months."

  "So is my Uncle George," remarked Hal. "He went to the West Indies tobring back a valuable cargo of wood. He had only a small vessel, anda few men. Say, did you say her name was McLaughlin?" exclaimed Hal,suddenly.

  "Yes; they call him Mack for short, but his name is McLaughlin."

  "Why, that was the name of the man who went with Uncle George!"declared Hal. "Maybe it was her father."

  "Sounds like it," Bert said. "Tell Uncle William about it sometime.I wouldn't mention it to Nellie, she cut up so, they said, the firsttime she saw the ocean. Poor thing! I suppose she just imagined herfather was tossing about in the waves."

  The boys had tied the canoe to its post, and now made their way upover the hill toward the house.

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sp; "Here they come," said Bert, as Nan, Nellie, and Dorothy came racingdown the hill.

  "Oh!" cried Dorothy, "give me some!"

  "Oh, you know me, Bert?" pleaded Nellie.

  "Hal, I wound up your kite string, didn't I?" insisted Nan, by way ofshowing that she surely deserved some of Hal's pond lilies.

  "And I found your ball in the bushes, Bert," urged Dorothy.

  "They're not for little girls," Hal said, waving his hand comically,like a duke in a comic opera. "Run along, little girls, run along,"he said, rolling his r's in real stage fashion, and holding the pondlilies against his heart.

  "But if we get them, may we have them sir knight?" asked Dorothy,keeping up the joke.

  "You surely can!" replied Hal, running short on his stage words.

  At this Nellie dashed into the path ahead of Hal, and Dorothy turnedtoward Bert. Nan crowded in close to Dorothy, and the boys had somedodging to get a start. Finally Hal shot out back of the big bush,and Nellie darted after him. Of course, the boys were better runnersthan the girls, but somehow, girls always expect something wonderfulto happen, when they start on a race like that. Hal had tennisslippers on, and he went like a deer. But just as he was about tocall "home free" and as he reached the donkey barn, he turned on hisankle.

  Nellie had her hands on the pond lilies instantly, for Hal was obligedto stop and nurse his ankle.

  "They're yours," he gave in, handing her the beautiful bunch ofblooms.

  "Oh, aren't they lovely!" exclaimed the little cash girl, but no oneknew that was the first time she ever, in all her life, held a pondlily in her hand.

  "I'm going to give them to Mrs. Bobbsey," she decided, starting atonce to the house with the fragrant prize in her arms. NeitherDorothy nor Nan had caught Bert, but he handed his flowers to hiscousin.

  "Give them to Aunt Emily," he said gallantly, while Dorothy took thebouquet and declared she could have caught Bert, anyhow, if she "onlyhad a few more feet," whatever that meant.