s of fatigue she
would make some tactful suggestion for his benefit, relieving him of
the necessity of saying he was tired, yet bringing about the
possibility of rest. And often with her own hands she would concoct
some nourishing dish, hardly so piquant as Gertrudis' red-hot
creations, but rather more healthful for a growing boy. Neither she
nor Blue Bonnet voiced their fears to the other girls nor to any of
the men, but, with a silent understanding, ministered quietly to the
frail boy's needs.

A few days later the girls crossed the meadow to the pool for their
first lesson in swimming. It was an odd little bunch that sat on the
bank dabbling their toes in the limpid water. The hastily improvised
bathing-suits they wore were of every style and color, and they looked
as gay as a flock of parrots in their bright-hued raiment. Blue Bonnet
dove off the big boulder in the middle, to the great envy of the
others, who only consented to get wet all over after much persuasion
and the threat of a forcible ducking.

Sarah took the whole thing as seriously as she did most things.
"Everybody should learn to swim," she announced authoritatively as she
sat contemplating a plunge. "Some day we might have a chance to cross
the ocean, and then we'd wish we knew how."

"Do you mean to swim across the ocean?" demanded Blue Bonnet wickedly.

"Of course not," replied Sarah, unruffled. "But in case of shipwreck,
you know, it's well to be prepared. I believe it should be studied as
a science,--get the stroke, then do it. It's like bicycle riding, they
say: when you once learn how to keep your balance you never forget."

Blue Bonnet demonstrated the stroke again and again, while the other
girls watched and imitated as they sat or sprawled on the grassy
bank. Sarah bent her whole mind to the acquiring of the proper arm
action; lay face-down and kicked scientifically; then, convinced of
her preparation for the feat, boldly entered the water.

"Good for you, Sallikins!" cried Blue Bonnet. "The others must be
afraid of getting their feet wet." Then she sang tauntingly:

"Mother, may I go out to swim?
Yes, my darling daughter,
Hang your clothes on a hickory limb--
But don't go near the water!"

Thus challenged, Kitty stepped shrinkingly into the cold water. "If
Sarah will swim from me to you, I'll try it after her," she bargained.
It was perhaps a distance of three yards from where she stood,
waist-dee