“Nonsense,” said Will.  “She has got other company now.  I don’t believe they know how to manage their boats, and we will have to help them.  Girls always have to be taken care of.”

“But,” persisted Martin, “you said that Greta was real smart and a first-rate fellow—­girl, I mean.”

“She is well enough for girls’ plays; but what can she know about boats?  Come along!”

Martin said no more, and the boys proceeded for some distance up the stream.

“If we go around that bend,” said Will, “we will be out of sight of the mill, and can have our own fun.”

Around the bend they found a bridge, and a little way above this the stream widened into a large pool, the banks of which were shaded by willows.  There they launched the schooner “America” and the sloop “Columbus” with appropriate ceremonies.  The sails and the rudders were properly set for a trip across the pool.  The ships bent gracefully to the breeze, and went steadily on their course, the little flags waving triumphantly from the mast-heads.  They moved so gracefully and behaved so beautifully that Martin expressed his sorrow that the girls were not there to see them.  Will made no reply, but he felt a twinge of remorse as he remembered how Greta had looked forward to this sail as a great event.  He tried to quiet his conscience with the consideration that it was much better for her not to be there; for she would certainly have felt mortified at the contrast between their pretty vessels and the poor canal-boats.

The boys crossed the bridge, and were ready for the arrival of their vessels in the foreign port.  Then they started them on the return voyage and recrossed the bridge to receive them at home.

This was done several times, but at last there was an accident.  Will’s schooner, the “America,” from some unknown cause, took a wrong tack when near the middle of the pool, and going too far up, got aground upon a tiny, grassy island.  She swayed about for a minute, and the boys hoped she would float off, but soon the masts ceased to quiver.  The “America” had quietly moored herself on the island as if she intended to remain there forever.  What was to be done?  The longest pole to be found would not reach the island from either bank, or from the bridge, and the pool was deep.  Will began to think it was a pretty bad case.

[Illustration:  THE BOYS WITH THEIR BOATS.]

“What a beauty!” “Isn’t it just lovely!” “Pretty! pretty! pretty!”

These exclamations came respectively from Greta, Hildegarde, and Minchen, and had reference to the “Columbus,” which was gliding up to the bank where the boys stood, with its sails gleaming in the sunshine, while it dipped and courtesied on the little waves.  The girls were coming around the bend.  Greta and Minchen had their canal-boats, and Hildegarde carried a great square of gingerbread.

“That’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw!” cried Greta.  In her admiration of the vessel, she had forgotten her wounded dignity.  For she had arranged with Hildegarde that, after giving the boys their share of gingerbread, they should walk proudly and silently away.