Part 24 (1/2)

”_No_; I meant to go down by the river, pa, to see if there are any fish.”

”Another day will do for that, Eddy.”

”No, it won't. I want to go now.”

”Oh, very well,” said Sir James; and they took the way to the meadows.

Meanwhile Helen and Dexter had gone on some distance ahead.

”There, you see, Dexter; how easy it is to do wrong,” said Helen, as, feeling greatly relieved, she hurried on toward the meadows.

”I didn't know it was doing wrong to have a c.o.c.kshy,” said Dexter.

”Seems to me that nearly everything nice that you want to do is wrong.”

”Oh no,” said Helen, smiling at the boy's puzzled face.

”Seems like it,” said Dexter. ”I say, he was going to scold me, only he found I was with you, and that made him stop. Wish I hadn't thrown the stone.”

”So do I,” said Helen quickly. ”Come, you have broken yourself off several bad habits this last week, and I shall hope soon to find that you have stopped throwing stones.”

”But mayn't I throw anything else?”

”Oh yes; your ball.”

”But I haven't got a ball.”

”Then you shall have one,” said Helen. ”We'll buy one as we go back.

There, it was a mistake, Dexter, so remember not to do it again.”

They were now on the banks of the glancing river, the hay having been lately cut, and the way open right to the water's edge.

”Yes, I'll remember,” said Dexter. ”Look--look at the fish. Oh, don't I wish I had a rod and line! Here, wait a moment.”

He was down on his chest, reaching with his hand in the shallow water.

”Why, Dexter,” said Helen, laughing, ”you surely did not think that you could catch fishes with your hand!”

”No,” said the boy, going cautiously forward and striking an att.i.tude; ”but you see me hit one.”

As he spoke he threw a large round pebble which he had picked out of the river-bed with great force, making the water splash up, while, instead of sinking, the stone skipped from the surface, dipped again, and then disappeared.

As the stone made its last splash, the reality of what he had done seemed to come to him, and he turned scarlet as he met Helen's eyes.

”Dexter!” she said reproachfully.

The boy took off his cap, looked in it, rubbed his closely cropped head in a puzzled way, and put his cap slowly on again, to stand once more gazing at his companion.

”I can't tell how it is,” he said dolefully. ”I think there must be something wrong in my head. It don't go right. I never mean to do what you don't like, but somehow I always do.”