We stowed away our baskets and then gave ourselves up to the enjoyment of the lovely Highland scenery, and to watching the various kinds of craft that we were constantly passing.  Winnie and Bobsey had been placed under bonds for good behavior, and were given to understand that they must exercise the grace of keeping moderately still.  The sail down the river and bay was a long, grateful rest to us older people, and I saw with pleasure that my wife was enjoying every moment, and that the fresh salt breeze was fanning color into her cheeks.  Plump Mrs. Jones dozed and smiled, and wondered at the objects we passed, for she had never been much of a traveller; while her husband’s shrewd eyes took in everything, and he often made us laugh by his quaint remarks.  Junior and Merton were as alert as hawks.  They early made the acquaintance of deck-hands who good-naturedly answered their numerous questions.  I took the younger children on occasional exploring expeditions, but never allowed them to go beyond my reach, for I soon learned that Bobsey’s promises sat lightly on his conscience.

At last we reached the great Iron Pier at Coney Island, which we all traversed with wondering eyes.

We established ourselves in a large pavilion, fitted up for just such picnic parties as ours.  Beneath us stretched the sandy beach.  We elderly people were glad enough to sit down and rest, but the children forgot even the lunch-baskets, so eager were they to run upon the sand in search of shells.

All went well until an unusually high wave came rolling in.  The children scrambled out of its way, with the exception of Bobsey, who was caught and tumbled over, and lay kicking in the white foam.  In a moment I sprang down the steps, picked him up, and bore him to his mother.

He was wet through; and now what was to be done?

After inquiry and consultation, I found that I could procure for him a little bathing-dress which would answer during the heat of the day, and an old colored woman promised to have his clothing dry in an hour.  So the one cloud on our pleasure proved to have a very bright lining, for Bobsey, since he was no longer afraid of the water, could roll in the sand and the gentle surf to his heart’s content.

Having devoured a few sandwiches to keep up our courage, we all procured bathing-dresses, even Mrs. Jones having been laughingly compelled by her husband to follow the general example.  When we all gathered in the passage-way leading to the water, we were convulsed with laughter at our ridiculous appearance; but there were so many others in like plight that we were scarcely noticed.  Mrs. Jones’s dress was a trifle small, and her husband’s immensely large.  He remarked that if we could now take a stroll through Maizeville, there wouldn’t be a crow left in town.