e pool." Good man! nothing can put him out.
Gradually the bottom is cleared of stones, (excepting the big one), and
levelled, and the embankment is built to a sufficient height.

"Now for the finishing touch!" cries George; "bring the turf; Fred--I'm
ready!" The water of the burn is rushing violently through the narrow
outlet in the "dike." A heavy stone is dropped into the gap, and turf
is piled on.

"More turf! more stones! quick, look alive!--it'll burst everything--
there, that's it!"

All hands toil and work at the opening, to smother it up. The angry
element leaks through, bursts, gushes--is choked back with a ready turf;
and squirts up in their faces. Mother is stunned to see the power of so
small a stream when the attempt is made to check it thoroughly; she is
not mechanically-minded by nature, and has learned nothing in that way
by education. It is stopped at last, however.

For a quarter of an hour the waters from above are cut off from those
below, as completely as were those of the Jordan in days of old. They
all stand panting and silent, watching the rising of the water, while
George keeps a sharp eye on the dike to detect and repair any weakness.
At last it is full, and the surplus runs over in a pretty cascade, while
the accommodating stream piles mud and stones against the dike, and thus
unwittingly strengthens the barrier. The pool is formed, full three
feet deep by twenty broad. Jacky wants to bathe at once.

"But the pool is like pea-soup, my pet--wait until it clears."

"I won't--let me bathe!"

"O Jacky, my darling!"

He does; for in his struggles he slips on the bank, goes in head
foremost, and is fished out in a disgusting condition!

So the bathing-pool was made. It was undoubtedly a "great institution;"
they did not know at the time, that, like many such institutions, it was
liable to destruction; but they lived to see it.

Meanwhile, to return from this long digression, Lucy, Tilly, and Jacky
bathed, while Mrs Brown watched and scolded. This duty performed, they
returned to the house, where they found the remainder of the party ready
for a journey on foot to Lake "What-you-may-call-it," which lake Lucy
named the Lake of the Clouds, its Gaelic cognomen being quite
unpronounceable.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 9.

A GRAND EXCURSION OVER THE MOUNTAINS.

Little did good Mr Sudberry think what an excursion lay before him that
day, when, in the pride of untried strength and unco