“That’s what I say,” agreed Uncle Tad, and the three arose from the fallen tree on which they had been sitting.  Just then Mother Brown caught sight of Bunny and Sue.

“Look at those children!” she cried.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Brown quickly.  “They haven’t fallen in, I hope!”

“Well, they’re in all the same!” chuckled Uncle Tad.  “Bunny has his knickerbockers rolled up as high as they’ll go, and if Sue’s clothes aren’t wet I’m mistaken!”

For by this time, liking the fun so much, Bunny and Sue had waded out where the water was deeper, and their clothes had become splashed by the little waves they made as they moved along.

“Oh, dear!  Such tykes!” exclaimed Mrs. Brown.  “Well, it isn’t too cool for wading, though it is for swimming.  But I must get them dry if we are to go to the waterfall.”

Mrs. Brown had brought some old towels along, for she knew what might happen when the children were going to play near a lake, and while Bunny and Sue were being told that they should have first asked whether or not they could go in wading, they were drying their pink toes on towels and getting ready to put on their shoes and stockings again.

“But we didn’t think wading was as bad as swimming,” said Bunny as he rubbed some sand off his fat legs.

“It isn’t exactly,” his mother answered.  “But this time it was nearly as bad.  But never mind.  Come on and we’ll see the waterfall.”

Farmer Jason had told Mr. Brown how to walk to the place where the waters of a small river toppled over the rocks into the lake, and having hidden the bundle of lunch up in a tree, where wandering dogs could not get at it, the family set off, Dix and Splash running on ahead, to see the waterfall.

The way was through a pleasant wood, with little paths running here and there, and if Bunny and Sue had been wandering alone they probably would have gotten lost.  But the road to the waterfall was a well-marked one and Mr. Brown kept to it until pretty soon Mrs. Brown said: 

“Hark, I hear something.”

There was a distant roaring in the woods.

“It’s a trolley car,” said Bunny.

His father, mother and Uncle Tad laughed.

“What a boy!” cried Mother Brown.  “To think the roar of a beautiful waterfall is but the noise of a trolley car!  He will never be a poet, will he Daddy?”

“I don’t want to be,” said Bunny quickly.  “I’m going to be a policeman when I grow up, and have a gun.”

“All right,” chuckled Daddy Brown.  “But a policeman’s life is not an easy one.”

The roaring noise became plainer, and then, as the path turned, the party came in sight of an open glade through which they could see the cataract.

It was not unlike a small Niagara in its way.  For a distance back of the edge the waters of the little river bubbled and foamed over rough rocks.  Then came a smooth stretch and, suddenly, the waters plunged over the broken ledge, falling about seventy feet to the lake below where they made a pool of foam.