CHAPTER XII
One day Julius came home with invitations for a ball in honor of the Governor, to be given in an ambitious embryo city across the lake. He had learned that the little steamer was to make an extra night-trip across on purpose to accommodate those who wished to attend, and that some of our friends had planned to go in company, and wished us to join their party. We had long intended to take the steamer trip across the lake; the Governor's ball sounded inviting, also the night crossing with our friends. We decided to accept.
The evening fell rather threatening, with flurries of wind and rain. Still we were undaunted, and kept hoping it would clear off.
I filled Bruno's basin and platter, telling him he must take care of the house and be a good dog. He seemed to understand all about it, and stood at the window after we had locked him in, watching us go with perfect composure.
It was still twilight when we started, and we could see his eyes shining through the glass, as long as the house was in sight.
The weather, meantime, had not improved, and had we not promised to go, we should certainly have given it up.
When we reached the wharf, we found that the little steamer's cabin was in the sole possession of our party, all the others having backed out on account of the weather.
We kept up each other's spirits with all sorts of absurdities, and the boat was soon ploughing a foamy track across the big waves.
As soon as we steamed out from behind a point of land that sheltered the wharf, we were met by a gale of wind that made the little steamer reel and tremble as if from the shock of a collision. The lights were all promptly extinguished, as the doors were forced open by fierce winds, while we huddled together in a corner, and laughingly reminded each other that it was a "pleasure exertion."