“Isn’t it perfect?” said Patty, dreamily. “It seems as if nothing could stir me up on a day like this.”
“Is that so?” said Bob, and with mischief in his eyes, he began to rock the boat from side to side.
“You villain!” cried Patty, rudely stirred from her calm enjoyment; “take that!”
She dashed light sprays of water at him from over the side of the boat, and he returned by cleverly sprinkling a few drops on her from the blade of his oar.
“Why did you want to kick up a bobbery, when everything was so nice and peaceful?” she said, reproachfully.
“I shall always kick up a bobbery,” he returned, calmly, “when you put on that romantic, sentimental air.”
“I didn’t put on any sentimental air! I was just enjoying the dreamy spirit of the lake.”
“Thank you! That’s the same as saying my society makes you sleepy.”
“Nothing of the sort. And anyway, the dreamy mood has passed.”
“Yes, I intended it should. Now, let’s sing.”