Polly was waiting, and in a very few minutes 167 the “Minnehaha” was launched. It was a beautiful day, the river rippling with waves and twinkling with reflections of trees, but the ardent oarswomen saw neither the beauty surrounding them nor the black clouds threatening. They were practising for a race. Neither spoke. They pulled with long steady strokes in perfect time. Suddenly Frieda’s oar flopped and “caught a crab.” The bow at the same moment struck the bank, and a great scrambling tearing sound followed. In a fright the girls huddled together in the bottom of the boat, not daring to look up.
“O, pshaw! It’s only a cow, more afraid than we were. She made all that noise just tearing up the bank.”
“I thought it was an earthshake,” sighed Frieda, leaning back and resting. “That was one hundred strokes without missing. I didn’t know the bank was so near.”
“Neither did I. That’s the trouble with us, Frieda. We get so interested in rowing that we forget to steer.”
“We steered into a steer that time.”
“O, Frieda! You ought not to be allowed to make jokes in English, you make such bad ones.”
Frieda smiled cheerfully. “Ten days ago I thought I should never make a joke in any language, or laugh at one again. I was very sorrowful when I came here, Polly.”
168“I didn’t dream it,” answered Polly. “You looked very sweet when I first saw you, and I thought you kept still because you didn’t care to talk! But we have had a lot of fun these days, haven’t we? I feel as though I had known you a long time. Wish you were going to Wellesley.”
“So do I. It would be delightful, with you there and Karl and Hannah so near. But my parents decided for me. Karl will go to see you, though.”
“That’s nice. Really, Frieda, you will find it’s lots easier at a small college than a large one at first. And you can come on East afterward. Dexter is fine, and you’ll have such a start, going in as Catherine’s friend.”