Betty, and a little farther up is the falls. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh, it is beautiful," rejoined Betty, a sentiment which Amy heartily
echoed, and for a few minutes they stood there, drinking in the beauty of
the scene, entirely unmindful of the lovely picture they themselves made
with their loosened hair and wreaths of wild flowers.

The river was not very wide, but the water was deep and clear and swift
and the continual swish-swish of its passage over rocks and between
foliage-laden banks made a pleasant, even sound that was deliciously
restful and refreshing.

"Oh, if we could only get down right into the very middle of it and let
those little ripples wash over us forever and forever!" sighed Grace
ecstatically.

"She would a little mermaid be!" sang Betty, as she slipped down to the
very edge of the water and leaned over to catch her reflection in the
bright depths of it. "But honestly, Mollie, isn't there any place in the
river where we can swim?"

"It looks too swift for good swimming to me--" began Grace, but Mollie
stopped her with a mysterious finger to her lips.

"Hush, my pretty one, not a word," said the latter, beginning to pick her
way daintily along the river bank. "Follow me and you will wear diamonds,
or seaweed, or whatever it is that mermaids wear. And don't fall over,
whatever you do," she turned around to caution them. "The river is so
swift here that I don't believe even the strongest swimmer would have a
chance."