Next morning the young Dorrances experienced for the first time the joy of going to market.

Their appointed household tasks were all done first, for Dorothy had insisted on that. Then she and Tessie had conferred as to what was needed, and she had made out a list.

Grandma Dorrance had decreed against a sailboat for the children alone; but they were at liberty to go in a rowboat.

So down the steps the four ran, and found Mr. Hickox waiting for them at the dock.

He had put a boat in the water for them. It was a round-bottomed boat, but wide and roomy; easy to row and provided with two pairs of shining oars.

"Can any of you row?" inquired Mr. Hickox, looking uncertainly at the children; "for I can't go along with you this morning. Mrs. Hickox, she wants me to work in the garden,—she says the weeds are higher 'n a kite."

"We can row," said Leicester; "but not so very well. We haven't had much experience, you know. But we're going to learn."

"I thought we'd each have a boat," said Fairy; "I want to learn to row. I want to be a 'sperinshed boat-lady."

"You can learn to row, baby, but you can't go in a boat all by yourself until you have learned."

"But I 'most know how now."

"Well I'll tell you how we'll fix it; two of us will row going over, and the other two can row coming back. To divide up evenly, suppose Dorothy and Lilian row over, and Fairy and I will row home." This was a bit of self-sacrifice on Leicester's part, for he was most eager to handle the oars himself.

Mr. Hickox quite appreciated the boy's attitude, and nodded approvingly at him but he only said: "All right, sonny, you sit in the stern and steer, and I make no doubt these young ladies'll row you over in fine shape."

Fairy was safely settled in the bow, with an admonition to sit still for once in her life; and then Dorothy and Lilian excitedly grasped the oars and splashed away.

It was not very skilful rowing, but it propelled the boat, and by the aid of Leicester's steering, they made a progressive, if somewhat zigzag course.

The morning was perfect. The lake calm and placid, with tiny soft ripples all over it. The green hills sloped down to its shore on all sides; while here and there, at long intervals, a house or a building gleamed white among the trees. The exhilarating air, and the excitement of the occasion roused the Dorrances' spirits far above normal,—which is saying a great deal.

The arms of the rowers grew very tired; partly because they were so unused to vigorous exercise, and partly because the rowing was far more energetic than scientific.

But the girls didn't mind being tired, and pulled away gleefully to an accompaniment of laughter and song.

Leicester would have relieved them, but they had promised grandma they would not move around or change places in the boat until they had become more accustomed to nautical ways.

But it was only a mile, after all, and they finally landed at Dolan's Point, and guided the bow of their boat up on to the beach in a truly shipshape manner. Fairy sprang out with a bound that landed her on the dry sand; Leicester followed, and then helped the exhausted but victorious galley-slaves to alight.

"Isn't it glorious!" cried Dorothy, panting for breath, but aglow with happiness.

"Fine!" agreed Lilian, but she looked a little ruefully at eight blisters on her pink palms.

"That's all right," said Leicester, cheerfully; "you'll get calloused after a while; blisters always have to come first."

"Oh, pooh, I don't mind them a bit," protested Lilian; for the Dorrances were all of a plucky disposition.

On they went, following the directions given them by Mr. Hickox, and making wonderful explorations at every turn.

Dolan's Point seemed to be occupied principally by a large boathouse. This belonged to a club-house, which was farther up the hill, and whose turrets and gables shining in the morning sunlight, looked like those of an old castle.

Their way lay across the point, and then they were to cross a small arm of the lake by means of a bridge.

Dorothy had hoped for a rustic bridge, and Leicester had told her that it would probably be two foot-planks and a hand-rail.

But when they saw the bridge itself, they were really struck speechless with wonder and delight. It was a floating bridge, built of logs. It was perhaps eight feet wide, and was made by logs laid transversely and close together. They were held in place by immense iron chains which went alternately over and under the logs at their ends. Except at the sides of the bridge, the logs were not visible for they were covered with a deep layer of soil on which grew luxuriant green grass. The thick grass had been mowed and cared for until it resembled a soft velvet carpet.

On either side of the bridge was a hand-rail of rope, supported at intervals by wooden uprights. The rope rails and the uprights were both covered with carefully trained vines. Among these were morning-glory vines, and their pink and purple blossoms made an exquisite floral decoration.

Evidently the bridge was in charge of somebody who loved to care for it, and who enjoyed keeping it in order.

"Do you suppose we walk on it?" asked Fairy, with a sort of awe in her voice.

"Yes," said Leicester. "It must be meant for that; but isn't it the most beautiful thing you ever saw!"

It certainly was, and the children stepped on to it gently, and walked slowly as one would walk in a church aisle.

Although suspended at both ends, almost the whole length of the bridge rested on the water, and swayed gently with the rippling of the lake. It was a delicious sensation to walk on the unstable turf, and feel it move slightly under foot.

As they advanced further, it seemed as if they were floating steadily along, and Fairy grasped Leicester's hand with a little tremor. When they reached the middle of the bridge they all sat down on the grass, and discussed the wonderful affair.

"I shall spend most of my time here," said Dorothy; "it seems to be public property, and I like it better than any park I have ever seen."

"It's lovely," agreed Lilian; "I'd like to bring a book and sit here all day and read."

"But it's so funny," said Fairy; "it's a bridge, and it's a park, and it's a garden, and it's a front yard,—and yet all the time it's a bridge."

"Well, let's go on," said Leicester. "I suppose it will keep, and we can walk back over it. And if we don't get our marketing done, we'll be like the old woman who didn't get home in time to make her apple-dumplings."

"If she had found this bridge," declared Dorothy, "she never would have gone home at all, and her story would never have been told."

But they all scrambled up and went on merrily towards the grocery store.

The store itself was a delight, as real country stores always are. Mr. Bill Hodges was a storekeeper of the affable type, and expressed great interest in his new customers.

He regaled them with ginger-snaps and thin slivers of cheese, which he cut off and proffered on the point of a huge shiny-bladed knife. This refreshment was very acceptable, and when he supplemented it with a glass of milk all around, Dorothy was so grateful that she felt as if she ought to buy out his whole stock.

But putting on a most housewifely air, she showed Mr. Hodges her list of needs, and inquired if he could supply them.

"Bless your heart, yes," he replied. "Bill Hodges is the man to purvide you with them things. Shall I send 'em to you?"

"Oh, can you?" said Dorothy. "I didn't know you delivered goods. I'd be glad if you would send the bag of flour and the potatoes, but most of the smaller things we can carry ourselves."

"Well I swan!" exclaimed Mr. Bill Hodges; "you're real bright, you air. How did ye come over? Walk?"

"No, sir," said Leicester. "We came in a rowboat; and then walked across the Point and over the bridge. We think that bridge very wonderful."

"And very beautiful," added Lilian. "Who keeps it so nice?"

"And doesn't it ever fall down in the water?" asked Fairy; "or doesn't the mud wash off, or don't people fall off of it and get drownded? and how do you cut the grass, and how do you water the flowers? It's just like a conservatorory!"

As Mr. Bill Hodges was something of a talker himself, he was surprised to be outdone in his own line by the golden-haired stranger-child, who, apparently without effort, reeled off such a string of questions. But as they referred to a subject dear to his heart he was delighted to answer them.

"That bridge, my young friends, is my joy and delight. Nobody touches that bridge, to take care of it, but Bill Hodges,—that's me. I'm proud of that bridge, I am, and I don't know what I'd do, if I didn't have it to care for. I'm glad you like it; I ain't got nary chick nor child to run across it. So whenever you young folks feel like coming over to look at it, I'll be pleased and proud to have ye; pleased and proud, that's what I'll be; so come early and come often, come one and come all."

"We'll bring our grandmother over to see it," said Dorothy, "just as soon as we can manage to do so."

"Do," said Mr. Hodges, heartily. "Bring her along, bring her along. Glad to welcome her, I'm sure. Now I'll go 'long and help you tote your bundles to your boat. I don't have crowds of customers this time of day, and I can just as well go as not."

The kind-hearted old man filled a basket with their purchases, and trudged along beside the children.

"Ain't it purty!" he exclaimed as they crossed the bridge. "Oh, ain't it purty?"

"It is," said Dorothy. "I don't wonder you love it."

"And there ain't another like it in the whole world," went on the prideful Hodges. "Of course there are floating bridges, but no-wheres is there one as purty as this."

The children willingly agreed to this statement, and praised the bridge quite to the content of its owner.

"Fish much?" Mr. Hodges inquired casually of Leicester.

"Well, we haven't yet. You see we only arrived yesterday, and we're not fairly settled yet."

"Find plenty of fishin' tackle over to my place. Come along when you're ready, and Bill Hodges'll fit ye out. Pretty big proposition,—you kids shakin' around in that great empty hotel."

"Yes, but we like it," said Leicester; "it just suits us, and we're going to have a fine time all summer."

"Hope ye will, hope ye will. There ain't been nobody livin' there now for two summers and I'm right down glad to have somebody into it."

"Why do you suppose they couldn't make it pay as a hotel?" asked Dorothy.

"Well, it was most always the proprietor's fault. Yes, it was the proprietor's fault. Nice people would come up there to board, and then Harding,—he was the last fellow that tried to run it,—he wouldn't treat 'em nice. He'd scrimp 'em, and purty nigh starve 'em. Ye can't keep boarders that way. And so of course the boarders kept leavin', and so the hotel got a bad name, and so nobody wants to try a hand at it again."

When they reached the boat, Mr. Hodges stowed their basket away for them, helped the children in and pushed the boat off.

With gay good-byes and promises to come soon again, the children rowed away.

Leicester and Fairy took the oars this time, and Fairy's comical splashing about made fun for them all. She soon declared she had rowed enough for one day, but Leicester proved himself well able to get the boat across the lake without assistance.