Part 3 (2/2)
Buck and Bright were there, the wagon backed down to the very edge of the water, while Star and Spot were dragging off a load of mud sc.r.a.ped or scooped up from the bed of the shallow brook.
”Where is papa?” inquired Bertie, after he had sat awhile watching the operations.
”Gone with the new gardener to buy some trees,” answered Tom, laughing. ”The Squire's up to all sorts of improvements. Shouldn't wonder a mite if he should take down yonder mountain to give him a view of the city.”
”I think this will be very pretty when it's done,” remarked the child.
”How long did they say they should be gone?”
”Didn't say in my hearing. Bertie I wish you'd ask the Squire if he'd like a load of beach pebbles, 'cause if he does, I'll bring him a load to-morrow morning. Those are the kind to make this water run clear.”
”Oh, there they are!” shouted the boy, trotting off to meet them.
”Have you bought the trees, Papa?”
”Yes, and brought them home, don't you see them?”
”What, those little things?”
”Willows grow very fast, my son. They will thrive better than if they were larger.”
”But, papa, how can we get to the island? Shall we have a bridge?”
”You must ask Dodge, Bertie. He is the author of this plan.”
”I'll tell you what would be better than a bridge,” explained Dodge, laughing. ”You must learn to row a boat; and then you can land at any place, you know. But our island is more for ornament than for profit.
We don't expect to have a settlement there.”
”Why wouldn't it be pretty to have a little house for the swans on it?
Joe Allen told me they could be taught to come on sh.o.r.e for their feed.”
”We will consider that proposal, my dear, when the island is in existence,” answered papa; ”in the meantime you may think of a pretty name for it.”
CHAPTER VII.
PAT'S VISIT HOME.
I hope my readers have become so much interested in Pat Riley that they will be as glad to hear from him as Bertie was.
We left him, as you know, in Mrs. Taylor's back chamber, making tops for the children. In a few days he was able to go down stairs. The first use he made of his liberty was to make a reel for Mrs. Taylor to wind her yarn on.
Wis.h.i.+ng to keep the boy employed, the good woman had borrowed a reel of a neighbor, and set him to work winding thread. The contrivance greatly delighted him. He examined it with the utmost care, pus.h.i.+ng it up and down, to fit it for a larger or smaller skein, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the good woman.
”Did you never see one before?” she asked, smiling.
<script>