At last, tired and warm from their racing, they sat down again in
the little mossy dell and played jackstones until Carter declared
they must go home.

"All right," said Midge; "but, Carter, row us a little farther
down stream, won't you, before you turn around?"

"I will, Miss Midge, if ye'll sit still and not be everlastin'
makin' me heart jump into me throat thinkin' ye'll turn the boat
upside down."

"All right," cried Midge, and she jumped into the boat with a
spring and a bounce that made the other end tip up and splash the
water all over her.

"There ye go now," grumbled Carter; "my, but it's the rambunctious
little piece ye are! Now, Miss Molly, for the land's sake, do step
in with your feet and not with your head! You two'll be the death
of me yet!"

Carter's bark was worse than his bite, for, although he scolded,
he helped the children in carefully and gently seated Stella in
her place. Then he stepped in, and with a mighty shove of the oar
pushed the boat off the beach, and they were afloat again.

The exhilaration of the occasion had roused Midge and Molly to a
high state of frolicsomeness, and it did seem impossible for them
to keep still. They dabbled their hands in the water and
surreptitiously splashed each other, causing much and tumultuous
giggling. This was innocent fun in itself, but Carter well knew