164 THE LAND OF PLUCK

way they had of running into every chink along the banks,
one would think they were anery? Yes, on the whole,
Winifred liked Colorado ; and so did her little brother Nat ;
though, if you had told him Boston was just around the
corner, he would have started to run there without waiting
to put on his cap.

A little mite of a fellow Nat was, full of good nature
and sunshine. Although he thought himself quite a big
boy, as he strutted about in his home-made jacket and

 

and that
was to be away from Mother, even for an hour. There

trousers, one thing could sorely trouble him

was something in Mother’s way of singing, Mother’s way
of kissing hurt little heads and fingers, Mother’s way of
sprinkling sugar upon bread, and Mother’s way of rock-
ing tired little boys, that Nat approved of most heartily.
He loved his father, too, and thought him the most power-
ful woodcutter that ever swung an ax, though really the
poor man had to stop and rest at nearly every stroke.

See these two children now trudging toward the shal-
low bend of the little river near by, quite intent upon the
launching and sailing of a tiny sloop that Father had made
for Nat on the evening before, warranting only that she
would float. This she did, and reared her one sail most
gallantly. But alas! inspired by the current she sailed too
well. It required the restraining efforts of both children
to keep her near shore; and when at last Winnie remarked
in cold scorn that she did n’t see much fun in sailing a
boat that had to be pulled back all the time, Nat and she
promptly decided to try some other kind of sport.

Father’s big rowboat was moored close by, and why not