“‘If seven maids with seven mops swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said, ‘that they could get it clear?’”
quoted Gladys, waving her hand in the direction of the heap.
“No doubt, but for a job like that I really wouldn’t keer!” answered Katherine. “Come on, you can climb over it.” And suiting the action to the word she took a long step over the pile of bricks and then reached down and pulled Gladys up after her.
It was fun standing up in the top of the lighthouse and looking out over the lake in all directions. The boats in the harbor of St. Pierre looked like cute little toys, and Ellen’s Isle seemed to have shrunk to half its size.
“Come, Munson,” said Katherine, “you get into the lantern and be the beacon. You can see that red hair of yours a mile. Too bad Hinpoha isn’t here, she’s a regular signal light.”
199“Get in yourself,” retorted the Monkey. “Your nose is as red as my hair.”
Far out over the lake they could see the black trail of smoke made by an approaching steamer.
“Here comes the Huronic,” said Gladys.
“Let’s stay out here until she goes past, and wave at the people,” said Katherine.
“We won’t have time, if we want to get to the Point of Pines ahead of the others,” said the Captain. Katherine reluctantly admitted that he was right and they picked their way down the littered stairs again. But there were so many fascinating corners to poke into that another half hour ticked by before they could finally tear themselves away.