The boys thanked Mrs. Parkney, and Bob drove off.  When he came to the pasture, he got out and took down three bars and then drove in across the grass, down to the brook.

“Why, it’s almost like a river!” cried Perry Phelps in surprise.  “Look how fast it goes!”

“Ice melting up above,” said Mr. Parkney, getting out his tools while Bob tied the horse to a tree.  “See the chunks of ice floating past?”

As the boys watched they saw pieces of dirty-looking ice go swirling past in the rushing water.

“Is it a freshet?” asked Sunny Boy, remembering what his daddy had told him about freshets.

“Not exactly,” answered Mr. Parkney.  “The water’s pretty high, but I don’t believe this little stream can do much in the way of a freshet.  Folks around here say it carries on right powerful-like some springs, but it doesn’t look dangerous to me.”

The pasture land was soft and oozy, but as every boy wore either rubber boots or storm rubbers, they did not mind the mud.  Perry Phelps said if they were going to explore, he thought it would be a good plan to follow the brook and see where it went.

“Go as far as you like,” said Mr. Parkney.  “Bob and I are going up to the house at noon for dinner, but we’ll be back around half-past one.  And we won’t let you miss the half-past four car, because your mothers will be expecting you home on that.  Go as far as you like; you won’t be trespassing.  The few folks that live around here are good-natured, and the next farm is vacant, anyway.”

“But don’t try any funny stunts, like wading in the brook,” said Bob.  “That water has more current than you’d expect, and it might knock you down easily.  And it isn’t warm enough yet to make a cold bath pleasant.”

Sunny Boy had been thinking that it would be fun to wade into the brook and see how near the water came to the top of his rubber boots.  But he didn’t want to be knocked down and perhaps hit with a piece of the ice, so he wisely decided to follow Bob’s advice and stay on shore.

The boys walked beside the brook, following its twists and turnings and climbing the fences that stood in their way, till they came to a large clump of willow trees, loaded down with pussy willows.

“Let’s pick them for Miss Davis,” suggested Sunny Boy.

“But then we’ll have to carry them all day,” said Perry.

“No we won’t.  We can take them back and leave them in the wagon,” said Sunny Boy.  “And then we’ll eat lunch and walk the other way.  I don’t think there is much fun around here.”

Nelson Baker had a pocket knife, so he cut the pussy willows and the boys carried a large bunch back to the tree where Bob had tied the horse and wagon.  But the horse was gone, and, of course, the wagon, when they reached the tree, and neither Bob or Mr. Parkney was in sight.

“They’ve gone home to eat their dinner,” said Sunny Boy.  “Let’s leave the pussy willows under this tree.  Mr. Parkney said he would be back by half-past one, you know.”