"Do you really s'pose there'll be waves?" asked Buddy.
"I don't know," answered his sister. "Percival is a very smart dog, you know."
Well, they ran down to the pond, and the first thing they saw when they got there were cords fastened to sticks driven down into the ground, just like the ropes at Asbury Park, you know—if you've ever been there. The ropes are for the bathers to take hold of when the waves come.
"Well," remarked Buddy, "I see the ropes, but I don't see any waves." But, no sooner had he spoken than a big wave rolled, splish-splash-splosh, right up the shore of the pond, which was rather sandy, and it sprayed itself over the toes of Buddy and Brighteyes—the wave splashed, you understand—not the sand, of course.
"Whee!" cried Buddy, all excited-like. "There's a wave!"
"Yes, and here comes another!" cried his sister, and, sure enough, another wave came sizzling and sloshing up out of the pond. And then another, and another, and another, until there were a dozen, or, maybe a dozen and a half of waves, one after the other.
"Oh, this is grand!" cried Buddy. "It's almost as good as Asbury Park!" and, really it was, I'm not fooling a bit. Of course the waves weren't as big as those at the seashore, but they were pretty good size. Well, Buddy and Brighteyes rushed into the water, keeping hold of the ropes, and the waves splashed all around them, and they splashed around in the waves, and pretty soon Buddy cried:
"Oh, I got a mouthful of water, and it's salty, just like the ocean!"
"Sure enough it is!" agreed Brighteyes, taking a small mouthful to taste. "I wonder what makes it?"
"And I wonder what makes the waves, and I wonder where Percival is?" went on Buddy, and just then there came such a big wave that it almost knocked him over, and he had to cling to the ropes. Then what should happen, but that at the far end of the pond, up rose old dog Percival, laughing as hard as he could laugh.