"Why, see, over there," pointing ahead of them, "a beautiful blue lake! See how the water ripples in the sunshine?"
The children, roused from the dull stupor into which they had fallen, were all crowding to the front of the wagon to look out. Joe and Lige on the high seats of the two other wagons craned their necks to see. They all set up a great hurrahing, but Mr. Peniman, after one long look, said nothing.
Suddenly his wife, who had been gazing with steadfast gaze at the entrancing sight, caught his arm.
"Joshua"—she cried,—"that lake—it looks very strange to me! Could it be that—I have read—oh, could it be that there is no lake—that it is—that it is——"
He laid his hand over hers with a tender, sympathetic pressure.
"Yes, dear heart, I hate to dispel thy illusion, but there is no lake there. It is a mirage."
"A mirage? What's a mirage, Father?" asked Sam, his face reflecting his bitter disappointment.
"It is just an air-picture, my son, an optical illusion."
"You mean"—cried Joe, incredulously—"you mean that there is no lake there? Why, how can that be, Father? We can see it; it is right there before our eyes——"
Mr. Peniman shook his head wearily.