es and grass and
flowers were everywhere. Through long stretches of "for sure country"
they picked their way, until they came, hot but happy, to a green and
shady summerhouse on a hill. There they halted to rest, and there
Ignatius Aloysius, with questionable delicacy, began to insist once more
upon the full measure of his bond.

"We ain't seen the rubber-neck-boat-birds," he complained. "Und we ain't
had no rides on nothings."

"You don't know what is polite," cried Eva, greatly shocked at this
carping spirit in the presence of a hard-worked host. "You could to
think shame over how you says somethings like that on a party."

"This ain't no party," Ignatius Aloysius retorted. "It's a 'scursion. To
a party somebody _gives_ you what you should eat; to a 'scursion you
_brings_ it. Und anyway, we ain't had no rides."

"But we heard a holler," the guest of honor reminded him. "We heard a
fierce, big holler from a lion. I don't know do I need a ride on
something what hollers. I could to have a fraid maybe."

"Ye wouldn't be afraid on the boats when I hold yer hand, would ye?"
Patrick anxiously inquired, and Eva shyly admitted that, thus supported,
she might not be dismayed. To work off the pride and joy caused by this
avowal, Patrick mounted the broad seat extending all around the
summerhouse and began to walk clatteringly upon it. The other pilgrims
followed suit and the whole party stamped and danced with infinite
enjoyment. Suddenly the leader halted with a loud cry of triumph and
pointed grandly out through one of the wistaria-hung openings. Not De
Soto on the banks of the Mississippi nor Balboa above the Pacific could
have felt more victorious than Patrick did as he announced:

"There's the water-lake!"

His followers closed in upon him so impetuously that he was borne down
under their charge and fell ignominiously out on the grass. But he was
hardly missed, he had served his purpose. For there, beyond the rocks
and lawns and red japonicas, lay the blue and shining water-lake in its
confining banks of green. And upon its softly quivering surface floated
the rubber-neck-boat-birds, white and sweetly silent instead of red and
screaming--and the superlative length and arched beauty of their necks
surpassed the wildest of Ikey Borrachsohn's descriptions. And relying
upon the strength and politeness of these wondrous birds there were
indeed "mans und ladies und boys und little girls" embarking,
disembarking, and placi