“Water-lilies! water-lilies!” cried Milly, stamping her little feet with delight.  “Oh, mother, look! it was on one of those leaves that the old toad put little Tiny in my fairy-book, don’t you remember?  Only the little fishes came and bit off the stalk and set her free.  Oh, I wish we could see little Tiny sitting on one of those leaves!”

“Well,” said Aunt Emma, “there’s no saying what you may find in these parts if you look long enough.  This is a very strange country.  But now, Milly, look out for the lilies.  Father’s going to take us in among them, and I’ll hold you, while you gather them.”

And presently, swish went the boat up against the rushes, and there were the lovely white lilies lying spread out on the water all round them, some quite open and showing their golden middles, and some still buds, with their wet green cases just falling off, and their white petals beginning to unclose.  But what slippery stalks they had.  Aunt Emma held Milly, and father held Olly, while they dived their hands under the water and pulled hard.  And some of the lilies came out with such short bits of stalk you could scarcely hold them, and sometimes, flop! out came a long green stalk, like a long green snake curling and twisting about in the boat.  The children dabbled, and splashed, and pulled, to their hearts’ content, till at last Mr. Norton told them they had got enough and now they must sit quite still while he rowed them in to the land.

“Oh, father, just those two over there!” pleaded Milly, who could not bear leaving so many beauties behind.

“No, Milly, no more.  Look where the sun is now.  If we don’t make haste and have our tea, we shall never get back to Ravensnest to-night.”

Milly’s face looked as if it would like to cry, as the boat began to move away from the rushes, and the beautiful lilies were left behind.  I told you, to begin with, that Milly was ready to cry oftener than a sensible little girl should.  But Aunt Emma was not going to have any crying at her picnic.

“Who’s going to gather me sticks to make my fire?” she said suddenly, in a solemn voice.

“I am!  I am!” shouted both the children at once, and out came Milly’s smiles again, like the sun from behind a cloud.

“And who’s going to lay the table-cloth?”

“We are! we are!”

“And who’s going to hand the bread and butter?”

“I am!” exclaimed Milly, “and Olly shall hand the cake.”

“And who’s going to eat the bread and butter?”

“All of us!” shouted the children, and Milly added, “Father will want a big plate of bread and butter, I daresay.”

“I should think he would, after all this rowing,” said Mr. Norton.  “Now then, look out for a bump!”

[Illustration:  “So they put Olly up on a tall piece of rock, and he sang.”]

Bump!  Splash! there was the boat scraping along the pebbles near the shore; out sprang Mr. Norton, first on to a big stone, then on to the shore, and with one great pull he brought the boat in till it was close enough for Aunt Emma and Mrs. Norton to step on to the rocks, and for the children to be lifted out.