55CHAPTER IV
Under the Big Top
A very weary and dust-covered couple trudged to the top of the last hill just before sundown and paused, with Lou’s hand instinctively clutching Jim’s arm.
“Is that it; the Hudson?” She pointed over the fringe of treetops below them to the broad, winding ribbon of sparkling gray-blue, touched here and there with the reflection of the fleecy pink clouds drifting far overhead.
Jim turned to look at her, wondering what reaction the view would have upon the emotions of this child who, until a brief week ago, had known only the “brick house with a high fence and a playground where never a blade of grass grew.”
Her big eyes followed the river’s course 56until it was lost in a creeping mist behind high hills, and she drew a deep breath.
“How far does it go?” she asked.
“To New York; to the sea,” he responded. “The ocean, you know.”
“My!” There was wonder and a certain regret in her tone. “What a waste of good wash-water!”
Jim emitted an inarticulate remark, and added hastily: