boat had always been one of Eyebright's chief wishes,
but she was too sleepy at that moment to realize that it was granted.
Her feet stumbled as papa guided her down the stair; she could not
keep her eyes open at all. The stewardess--a colored woman--laughed
when she saw the half-awake little passenger; but she was very
good-natured, whipped off Eyebright's boots, hat, and jacket, in a
twinkling, and tucked her into a little berth, where in three minutes
she was napping like a dormouse. There was a great deal of whistling
and screeching and ringing of bells when the boat left her dock, heavy
feet trampled over the deck just above the berth, the water lapped and
hissed; but not one of these things did Eyebright hear, nor was she
conscious of the rock-ing motion of the waves. Straight through them
all she slept; and when at last she waked, the boat was no longer at
sea, and there was hardly any motion to be felt.

It was not yet six o'clock. The shut-up cabin was dark and close,
except for one ray of yellow sun, which straggled through a crack, and
lay across the carpet like a long finger. It flickered, and seemed to
beckon, as if it wanted to say, "Get up, Eyebright, it is morning at
last; get up, and come out with me." She felt so rested and fresh that
the invitation was irresistible; and slipping from the berth, she put
on dress and boots, which were laid on a chair near by, tied the hat
over her unbrushed hair, and with her warm jacket in hand, stole out
of the cabin and ran lightly upstairs to the deck.

Then she gave a great start, and said, "Oh!" with mingled wonder and
surprise; for, instead of the ocean which she had expected to see, the
boat was steaming gently up a broad river. On either side was a bold,
wooded shore. The trees were leafless still, for this was much farther
north than Tunxet, but the rising sap had tinted their boughs with
lovely shades of yellow, soft red, and pink-brown, and there were
quantities of evergreens beside, so that the woods did not look cold
or bare. Every half mile or so the river made a bend and curved away
in a new direction. It was never possible to see far ahead, and, as
the steamer swept through the clear green and silver water, it
continually seemed that, a little farther on, the river came to end,
and there was no way out except to turn back. But always when the boat
reached the place where the end seemed to be, behold, a new reach of
water, with new banks and tree-crowne