see the water; my, but it's nice!"

"What, the party or the water?"

"Why, the water."

"Both" added another.

"We've all told who we're going to marry," remarked a little rosy-faced
miss, "all but Carlia, an' she won't tell."

"Well, but perhaps Carlia don't know. You wouldn't have her tell a fib,
would you?"

"Oh, shucks, she knows as well as us."

"She's just stubborn."

She who was receiving these criticisms seemed to be somewhat older
and larger than her companions. Just now, not deigning to notice the
accusation of her friends, she was throwing sticks into the running
water and watching them go over the falls at the headgate and dance on
the rapids below. Her white party dress was as yet spotless. She swung
her straw hat by the string. Her brown-black hair was crowned by an
unusually large bow of red ribbon. She was not the least discomposed by
the teasing of the other children, neither by Dorian's presence. This
was her party, and why should not she do and say what she pleased.

Carlia now led the way along the canal bank until she came to where a
pole spanned the stream. She stopped, looked at the somewhat insecure