Then the thought occurred to her that the One who had made the sunlight and the soft green earth was kinder than she had ever supposed.

“Well,” said cousin Horace, “now we’ve done the mine; and this evening, Dotty, you and I will go and sniggle for eels.”

Dotty dared not tell any one that she had expected to find gold, and had been disappointed.

Her first act, after reaching Aunt ’Ria’s was to look in the little box for her precious pearl.  It was gone!  No doubt Flyaway had taken it.  Dotty mourned over her own carelessness in leaving her treasure where the roguish little one could reach it.  Instead of finding gold, she had lost something she supposed was more precious than gold.  But she bore up as bravely as possible, and said to Mrs. Clifford,—­

“You needn’t punish the baby, Aunt ’Ria; she didn’t know she was stealing.”

Dotty had never seen an eel.  Like a coal mine, a pearl, a Guinea pig, a drunken man, and a chegre, she supposed an eel was peculiar to the climate, and could be found nowhere but out West.  As it had been described as being “really a fish, but looking more like a snake,” she did not expect to be very much charmed with its personal appearance.  She wished to catch one, or see one caught, because it would be something to tell Prudy.

There was no moon, and the night was cloudy.

“My son, be sure you take good care of your cousin,” said Mrs. Clifford, the last thing.

“So funny!” Dotty thought.  “They don’t seem to think there’s anybody else in this world but just me!”

Horace carried with him some light wood, and, when they reached the river bank, kindled a bright fire.

“We’ll make things look friendly and pleasant,” said he; “and by and by Mr. Eel will walk along to the fire, and ask if we entertain travellers.  ‘If so,’ says he, ‘you may count me in.’”

“How dried up the river looks!” said Dotty.

“That is because the draymen have taken so much water out of it, little cousin.  Haven’t you seen them going by with barrels?”

“I shouldn’t think the mayor’d ’low them to do it, Horace; for some time there won’t be any river left.”

“It’s too bad to impose upon you,” said Horace, laughing; “I was only joking.”  Dotty drew herself up with so much dignity that she nearly fell backward into the fire.

Good-natured Horace repented him of his trifling.

“Look down in the water, Dotty, and see if there is anything there that looks like an eel?”

Dotty did not move.

“Don’t go to being vexed, chickie; you’re as bright as anybody, after all.”

Dotty smiled again.

“There,” said Horace, “now we’ll begin not to talk.  We’ll not say a word, and next thing we know, we’ll catch that eel.”

But he was mistaken.  They knew several other things before they knew they had caught an eel.  Horace knew it was growing late, and Dotty knew it made her sleepy to sit without speaking.