“Gracious, yes,” said the False Hare lightly.  “Lemme see!  What do little boys like best?  Cinnamon buns an’ chocolate cake an’ butterscotch an’ lemon pie an’ soda-water an’ gingerbread an’ jujubes an’ hokey-pokey an ’popcorn balls an’—­” He might have gone on forever, but Ann and Rudolf would not stand any more of it.  They rose angrily and dragging Peter after them, continued their climb.  Just as they had almost reached the top of the hill, the False Hare bounded past them with a laughing salute and a wave of his paw, and dropped out of sight over the brink of the ridge.  A moment more and they all stood on the edge of a cliff so steep that they were in danger of tumbling over.  From beneath the Hare’s voice called up to them, “Nobody ever thought of a sheet of water—­oh, no!”

Before their eyes lay the last thing the children had expected to see, a large piece of water quite calm and smooth, without a sign of a sail on it, nor were there any bathers or children playing on the narrow strip of beach directly beneath them.  At first it seemed as if it would be impossible for them to climb down the face of that steep cliff to the water, but the False Hare had done it, and they determined that they must manage it somehow.  After looking about carefully, they found a set of rude steps cut in the side of the cliff.  They were very far apart, to be sure, for climbers whose legs were not of the longest, but Rudolf helped Ann and Ann helped Peter and at last they were all safely down and standing beside the False Hare, who was strolling along the edge of the water.

“Hullo,” said he, sticking his glass in his eye and looking at Ann.  “What makes the whiskerless one so cheerful?”

Rudolf and Peter were not surprised when they turned to look at Ann to see that she was ready to cry.

“What’s the matter, Ann?” they asked.

“Oh, dear, dear!” sighed Ann.  “Whatever will become of us now?  We can’t go back.  Even if we could climb up the cliff, I’d never pass that dreadful Goose’s house again, no, not for anything!  But how are we going to get any farther without a boat?”

The False Hare pretended to wipe away a tear with the back of his paw.  “No boat,” he groaned.  “Oh, dear, dear, dear—­no boat!”

The faces of the three children brightened immediately, for they were beginning to understand his ways.  “Hurrah!” cried Rudolf, waving his sword.

Sure enough, coming round a bend in the shore where the bushes had hidden it from their sight, was a small boat rowed by two white candy mice.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V

REAL LIVE PIRATES

After neatly and carefully turning up the bottoms of his trousers so that they should not get wet, the False Hare bounded on a rock that rose out of the water a few feet from shore, and stood ready to direct the landing of the boat.  There was some sense in this, for certainly neither of the two mice was what could be called good oarsmen.  One of them had just unshipped the little sail, and—­not seeming to know what else to do with it—­had cut it loose from the oar that served as a mast and wrapped it round and round his body, tying himself tightly with a piece of string.