“Isn’t it wonderful?” murmured Mother Brown.

“It certainly is a beautiful picture,” came from Mr. Brown.

“It’s the prettiest little fall I’ve ever seen,” added Uncle Tad.

Sue said nothing for a minute.  Both she and Bunny were looking at the waterfall closely.  Then Sue began to wrap a shawl, which she had brought along, over her Teddy bear.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mother Brown.

“It’s like rain all over Sallie Malinda,” answered the little girl.  “I don’t want her to catch cold, for she might not shine her ’lectric eyes any more.”

“That’s all Sue seems to care about the fall,” laughed Mother Brown in a whisper to her husband.

As for Bunny, he seemed to think them quite wonderful—­for a time.  He stood as near the edge as his father would let him, looking up the rapids down which the waters rushed, to fall over the rocky edge, dropping in a smother of foam to the blue lake below.  Silently he watched the smooth waters glide down like some ribbon, and then, turning to his father, he asked: 

“Is this all they do?”

“All what does?” inquired Mr. Brown, not quite understanding.

“All the waterfall does.  Does it just keep falling?”

“All day and all night, day after day and night after night, forever and forever,” said Mr. Brown, for really the waterfall was a marvelous sight.

“Then I’ve seen enough,” said Bunny, turning away.  “If they’ve been doing this a long while, and will do it all next week, I can look at ’em then.  Now I want to go out in a boat.  I saw one as we came through the picnic grounds.  I’ve had enough of waterfalls.”

Mr. and Mrs. Brown and Uncle Tad looked at one another.  But they said nothing.  Bunny started down the hill again, toward the lake, Sue following with her Teddy bear.

“Bunny surely will never make a poet,” chuckled his mother.

“Oh, well, perhaps there are enough poets in the world now,” said Mr. Brown with a laugh.

Bunny and Sue were first at the place where the boat was kept.  There were several of them, and Mr. Jason had said that picnic parties used them.  The lake was not deep, he had added, and was very safe, for any one who knew anything about boats.

Bunny and Sue finally prevailed on Uncle Tad to take them out for a row after lunch, and when the two children were in their seats Dix insisted on following.

Mr. Brown, who decided to remain on shore with his wife, tried to call back the dog, but he would not come.  Nor would he come when Splash barked and whined at him, asking, in dog language, I suppose, if Dix did not want to come and have a game of “water tag.”

But Dix evidently wished to stay in the boat, and finally they let him remain, as he was a quiet dog, not given to jumping about.  He curled up in front behind Sue and went to sleep.

Uncle Tad rowed about the lake.  Bunny wished he had brought his fishing pole and line along, as they saw fish jumping in several places.