“Oh, father, don’t bump against any rocks,” said Milly, whose thoughts were very full of the little girls.
“Don’t you trouble your head about rocks, old woman. I know a good deal more about this lake than those little girls’ father did, and I won’t take you into any harm. Come along, Olly.”
Olly was helped along the boat by mother and Aunt Emma till his father caught hold of him and pulled him on to his seat, where he let him put his two small paws on one of the oars, and try what he could do with it. Mr. Norton pulled too; but Olly thought it was all his doing, and that it was really he who was making the boat go.
“Don’t we go fast, father?” he cried out presently, his little face flushed with pleasure and excitement. “You couldn’t row so fast without me, could you, father?”
“You little fly-on-the-wheel,” said his father, smiling at him.
“What does that mean, father?”
“Never mind, you’ll know when you’re bigger. But now look, children, how close we are coming to the shore. And quick, Milly, quick! What do you see over there?”
Mr. Norton pointed over the water to a place where some green rushes were standing up out of the water, not very far from the edge. What were those great white and gold things shining among the rushes; and what were those large round green leaves lying on the water all about them?
“Water-lilies! water-lilies!” cried Milly, stamping her little feet with delight. “Oh, mother, look! it was on one of those leaves that the old toad put little Tiny in my fairy-book, don’t you remember? Only the little fishes came and bit off the stalk and set her free. Oh, I wish we could see little Tiny sitting on one of those leaves!”
“Well,” said Aunt Emma, “there’s no saying what you may find in these parts if you look long enough. This is a very strange country. But now, Milly, look out for the lilies. Father’s going to take us in among them, and I’ll hold you, while you gather them.”