Tommy had a good voice, and as he rowed he began to sing:
“See our oars with feathered spray
Sparkle in the beam of day,
As along the lake we glide
Swiftly o'er the silent tide.”
The pond was large enough to afford the boy a good pull with the oars. He enjoyed it immensely. The boat had glided from shore to shore several times, when Master Tommy Henning began to look for fresh excitement. Stealthily he began to pull stronger on one oar than on the other, and so gradually to near the mill-race.
“Oh, Tom! Tommy! look, look, we are getting near the dam,” shouted Ethel, very much frightened.
“That's nothing. There's no danger here,” said the boy. He made a turn, then came nearer than before to the dangerous spot.
“I'm so frightened! Tom, please, Tom, don't go so near,” pleaded Ethel.
“That's because you are a girl. If you were a boy you wouldn't be frightened a little bit.”
He rowed away for a little space, and soon in a spirit of pure bravado he pulled nearer a few feet. Ethel began screaming with fright.
“That's just like girls. They always scream at something or other,” said the ungallant Tommy.