ho had
come aboard to help him.

"Gee!" he said, thoughtfully. "A new variety, Obadiah! Pollybirdia
singularis, as Edward Lear hath it."

"She's mighty pretty!" said Gerald.

"She is that!" said Phil.

CHAPTER XIII.

ABOUT VISITING

"GOOD-BY, Tommy, dear. Be sure to tell Mamma that I thought she would
not mind my staying, when Mrs. Merryweather was so perfectly heavenly as
to ask me. Be sure to tell her that my skirt is _all_ cockled up, so
that you could put it in your waistcoat pocket, Tom; and that the _only_
way to save it is to press it _damp_, and let it _dry_ before I put it
on. Tell her that I have got on a dress of the Snowy's that is simply
_divine_,--more becoming than anything I ever had on; and that my silk
waist has run--oh, tell her it has run _miles_, Tom, so that I can
never--"

"There, there, Vi!" cried Tom Vincent, pushing his boat off. "_I_ must
run, before you swamp me entirely with messages. I'll come back for you
to-morrow, and bring your toggery. Ever so many thanks, everybody.
You've been awfully good. I've had a corking time. Good-by!"

The sail filled, the boat swung round, and was soon speeding along the
lake, while her owner still waved his cap and looked back to the wharf,
where the campers stood, giving back his greeting with hearty good will.

"Nice chap!" said Gerald to Phil.

"Corker!" said Phil to Gerald.

"Nor," added Gerald, turning to look after the girls as they walked back
along the slip, "nor is the sororial adjunct totally devoid of
attraction. What thinkest, Fergy?"

He shot a quick glance at his brother, and seemed to await his reply
with some eagerness.

"I think she's as pretty as a picture," said Phil, soberly.

"You have a nose on your face, if it comes to that," said Gerald. "At
least it passes for one. _Weiter!_"

"I think she's awfully jolly, and all that," said Phil. "Nice, jolly,
good-natured girl."

"Granted; she's great fun."

"But," Phil went on, slowly,--"oh, well! you know what I mean. If our
girls went on like that, we should be under the painful necessity of
ducking them. Now, Peggy--"

He paused and examined the mooring of the boat, critically.

"Now, Peggy," Gerald repeated, jogging him with his elbow. "Always
finish a sentence when you can, son. It argues poverty of invention to
have to stop in the middle. You can always fall back on 'tooral looral
lido,' if you can't think of anything else. What about Peggy?"

"Oh, nothin