still and warm, the bass refused to
bite, and even the sunfish lay, shy or wary or indifferent, in their
shallow, sunny pools, so we resolved to walk down the river to the
post-office, four miles away, for possible mail. As we sat on the steps of
the little store, looking it over,--"Here's news," said Jonathan; "Jack and
Molly say they'll run up if we want them, day after to-morrow--up on the
morning train, and back on the evening."

"Good! Tell them to come along."

"No--it's to-morrow--letter's been here since yesterday. I'll telegraph."

As we tramped home we planned the day. "We'll meet them and all walk up
together," said Jonathan.

"We'd better catch some bass and leave them all hooked in a pool, ready
for them to pull out," I added; "otherwise they may not catch any. And
maybe you'd better meet them and I'll have dinner ready when you get
back."

"Nonsense! You come, and we'll all get dinner when we get back. That's
what they're coming for--to see the whole thing."

"But if it's late--they've got to get back for that down train."

"Well--time enough."

"Oh, Jonathan! What about catching that train?"

"They'll have watches--watches that go."

"But what about our meeting them? The train arrives at 10:15, they said.
What does 10:15 look like in the sky, I wonder!"

"Or rather, what does 8.45 look like? It takes an hour and a half to get
there, counting crossing the river."

"Yes--dear me! Well, Jonathan, we'll just have to get up early and go, and
then wait."

"Or else take our watch to the farmhouse and set it."

"Jonathan, I will not! I'd rather start at daylight."

Which was very nearly what we did. The morning opened with a sun obscured,
and I felt sure it was stealing a march on us and would suddenly burst out
upon us from a noonday sky. We breakfasted hastily, ferried across to
shore, and set a swinging pace down the road. As we walked, the sun burned
through the mist, and our shadows came out, dim, long things, striding
with the exaggerated gait that shadows have, over the grassy banks to our
right.

"I think," said Jonathan, "it may be as late as seven o'clock, but perhaps
it's only six."

When we reached the station, the official clock registered 8.30. We
strolled over to the store-and-post-office and got more letters--one from
Molly and Jack saying thank you they'd come. "They don't entirely
understand our mail system up here," said Jonathan. We got some
ginger-cookies and some milk