"Well, what is it?" demanded Rachel, laughing good-naturedly.
"It's water."
"I don't want to see any water," said Rachel, turning off disdainfully;
"there's nothing pretty in that."
"But it's awfully pretty," said Peletiah; "it runs all down over the
stones, and under the trees and----"
"Where is it?" cried Rachel, running up to him in great excitement. "Oh,
take me to it."
"It's just back of the house," said Ezekiel; "I'll show you the way."
But Rachel, once directed, got there first, and was down on her knees on
the bank, dabbling her hands in the purling little stream, half wild with
delight.
And when the parson and his wife got home from Miss Bedlow's funeral, they
found the three children there, perfectly absorbed in the labor of sailing
boats of cabbage leaves, and guiding their uncertain craft in and out the
shimmering pools and down through the tiny rapids. And they watched them
unobserved.
"But I dread to-morrow, when I give her the first lesson," said the parson,
as they stood unperceived in the shadow of the trees; "everything else is a
splendid success."
"Let us hope the lessons will be, too, husband," said Mrs. Henderson, a
happy light in her eyes.
"I hope so, but I'm afraid the child is all for play, and will be hard to
teach," he said, with a sigh.
But on the morrow--well, the minister came out of his study when the lesson
hour was over, with a flush on his face that betokened pleasure as well as
hard work.
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