On either side of the bridge was a hand-rail of rope, supported at intervals by wooden uprights. The rope rails and the uprights were both covered with carefully trained vines. Among these were morning-glory vines, and their pink and purple blossoms made an exquisite floral decoration.
Evidently the bridge was in charge of somebody who loved to care for it, and who enjoyed keeping it in order.
"Do you suppose we walk on it?" asked Fairy, with a sort of awe in her voice.
"Yes," said Leicester. "It must be meant for that; but isn't it the most beautiful thing you ever saw!"
It certainly was, and the children stepped on to it gently, and walked slowly as one would walk in a church aisle.
Although suspended at both ends, almost the whole length of the bridge rested on the water, and swayed gently with the rippling of the lake. It was a delicious sensation to walk on the unstable turf, and feel it move slightly under foot.
As they advanced further, it seemed as if they were floating steadily along, and Fairy grasped Leicester's hand with a little tremor. When they reached the middle of the bridge they all sat down on the grass, and discussed the wonderful affair.
"I shall spend most of my time here," said Dorothy; "it seems to be public property, and I like it better than any park I have ever seen."
"It's lovely," agreed Lilian; "I'd like to bring a book and sit here all day and read."
"But it's so funny," said Fairy; "it's a bridge, and it's a park, and it's a garden, and it's a front yard,—and yet all the time it's a bridge."