“Then step on my back and jump aboard!” said the dolphin.
As Mary Frances placed her foot on the dolphin as on a bridge, he suddenly arched his back and tossed her aboard.
“Take plenty of time to look the ship over,” he called out; “and don’t lose your ticket!”
Then the dolphin, with The Good Ferry following in his wake, swam down the river and put out to sea.
The Good Ferry was a charming little boat, graceful in every line. It wasn’t any longer than a large rowboat, but it seemed to have every comfort provided. There was on deck a comfortable deck chair; upon it was spread a beautiful steamer rug.
“I’ll take a nice nap, after I look the boat over,” thought Mary Frances.
As she made her way into the cabin, she uttered a cry of delight—and no wonder. Any girl would have loved it. The walls and woodwork were ivory white. Soft pink and light blue hangings fluttered at the windows. A large bowl, filled with pink roses and turquoise blue larkspurs, stood on the little golden dressing table with its folding mirrors.
A little ivory-white princess dresser, with its full-length mirror, stood across one corner, and an ivory-white bed across the other corner. On the rocking-chair, and bed, and dresser were painted pink and blue flowers, and the covers of the table, bed and dresser were embroidered with the same designs.
There was a wardrobe in a corner, and in it Mary Frances found the loveliest dressing gown of pink crêpe de chine, embroidered with sprays of light blue forget-me-nots, and white daisies with yellow centers, and pink roses; and a pair of light blue bedroom slippers and silk stockings, and a boudoir cap and nightgown, and a big steamer coat and cap—all just the right size.
“Just like a grown-up young lady,” she thought.