He jumped up, sprang out of his boat, and fastened it to the same stake where Berty’s was moored.
“You’ve been looking cross-eyed at the sun,” he said, taking off his hat and fanning himself.
“Take care that you don’t do the same thing,” said Berty.
He looked at her sharply. She was cross, pure and simple, and with a satisfied smile he went on, “Might a fellow sit down on this grass? It looks uncommonly comfortable.”
“Oh, yes,” said Berty, seating herself near him. “One might as well sit as stand.”
“‘YOU’RE DYING TO TEASE ME’”
“This is pleasant,” said Tom, happily, leaning on one elbow with his hat over his eyes, and gazing dreamily at the river.
“It is the prettiest river in the world,” remarked Berty, decidedly.