In the boat it-self was a boy. He was lean-ing o-ver the side and look-ing down at his fa-ther. His hat had blown off, and he looked like such a nice boy that Kate smiled at him as they went by. He laughed back and made her a lit-tle bow, but the hors-es went by so fast that she saw him for a min-ute on-ly.
"What was the name of that boat, pa-pa?" she asked.
"Phil-lis," said pa-pa.
"Why, that's a girl's name," said Kate.
Just at that mo-ment they passed by a small house. The door stood wide o-pen, and in it sat a young girl. She had a pil-low in her lap and was work-ing o-ver it, Kate thought, with a nee-dle. "She is mak-ing lace," said mam-ma. "It is hard work, be-cause one has to sit still bent o-ver. I sup-pose she is glad to have the bright sun-shine to sit in, for no doubt she has been kept in the house by the rain. I won-der if that is her lit-tle broth-er who is lean-ing a-gainst the side of the house whit-tling."
Kate stretched her head out to look, and cried, "Why, he is mak-ing a boat; what a clev-er boy! See, the hull is done, and two masts are in place. What fun it would be to have a boat to sail on our lit-tle pond."