ills in the west, reflecting
the shadows of the beautiful gold and purple clouds upon the surface of
the silver lake. A gentle breeze was blowing down the valley, and the
little waves broke with a musical ripple upon the pebbly sands. It was
a lovely hour and a lovely scene, and Charles felt the sweet influence
of both. He looked out upon the lake, and wished he was floating over
its tiny wavelets.

He stepped upon the raft, and thought how pleasant and how exciting it
would be to sail over to Centre Isle, as the little wood-crowned islet
that rose from the middle of the lake was called. Pulling up the stake
that held the raft, he pushed out a little way from the shore. The
sensation which the motion of the raft produced was new and strange to
him, and he felt a longing desire to sail farther. But just then Frank
returned.

"My father is not at home," said he.

"Can't you go, then?" asked Charles, as he pushed the raft to the shore
again.

"Yes; I told my mother where I was going."

"Frank, let us go up to Mrs. Weston's on this raft. She lives close by
the shore of the lake."

"My father told me never to go on the lake without permission from
him."

"Pooh! What harm can there be in it?"

"I don't know that there can be any."

"Let us go then."

"My father told me not to go on the lake."

"But he has gone away, you said."

"I cannot disobey him."

"He never will know it."

"You don't mean what you say, Charley. You would not have me go
directly contrary to what my father told me, just because he is not
here to see me."

Charles felt a little ashamed, and replacing the stake that secured the
raft, jumped on shore.

"It is a delightful evening, and it would be so pleasant to take a
little sail!" said he.

"I don't think that raft is very safe. I saw the Bunkers on it the
other day, and they stood ankle deep in water."

"I am not afraid of it."

"No matter; my father told me not to go on the lake, which is quite
reason enough for me not to do so."

"But the Bunkers seem to have a first-rate time on it."

"Perhaps they do."

"But we fellows that have to mind what our fathers and mothers tell us
are the losers by our obedience."

Frank smiled; he could not help doing so at the thought of one who had
just been counselling him to disobedience making such a remark.

"I am quite sure I am contented."

"But don't you think the Bunkers have more fun than we do? Tim Bunker
don't care any more abo