“You can’t see them very well,” said his father, “because we look down upon them. When we are upon a mountain, the small hills below almost disappear. Besides, the waves out in the open sea, in such a still time as this, are in the form of broad swells; but these swells are broken when they roll against the shore, and so this makes the surf.”
“I mean to look over and see,” said Rollo, and he walked cautiously along towards the precipice.
“O Rollo,” exclaimed Mary, “don’t go so near!”
“Why, there is no danger,” said Rollo.
“Rollo! Rollo!” exclaimed Mary again, as Rollo went nearer and nearer.
His father had turned away, just as he had finished what he said above, and so had not observed what Rollo was doing. In fact, he did not go near enough to the brink to be in any danger, though Mary was afraid to have him so near.
His mother, hearing Mary’s call, turned to see what was the matter, and she, too, felt afraid at seeing Rollo so near. She called him to come away; but Rollo told her that he was not near enough to fall.
“But I had rather that you would come away,” said his mother; and she looked very anxious and uneasy, and began to hurry along towards him.
“You see that large island off to the right,” said Rollo’s father, directing her attention in the right quarter.