Rollo went, but, as he left the room, he turned round to ask his father if he would not come with them, and just show them a little about it. His father said he could not come very well then, but if they would try and do as well as they could, he would come and look over their work after it was done, and tell them whether it was right or not.
Rollo and Lucy went up into Rollo’s room, and, true enough, they found not a little confusion there. But they went to work, and soon became very much interested in their employment. A great many of the things were new to Lucy, and as they went on arranging them, they often stopped to talk and play. In this way several hours passed along very pleasantly; and when, at last, they had got them nearly arranged, Rollo went to the window to throw out some old stones that he concluded not to keep any longer, when he exclaimed aloud,
“O, Lucy, Lucy, come here quick.”
Lucy ran. Rollo pointed out to the western horizon, and said, “See there!”
There was a broad band of bright golden sky all along the western horizon—clear and beautiful, and extending each way as far as they could see. The dark clouds overhead reached down to the edge of this clear sky, where they hung in a fringe of gold, and the dazzling rays of the sun were just peeping under it. The rain had ceased.
Rollo and Lucy gazed at it a moment, and then ran down stairs as fast as they could go, calling out,
“It is clearing away! It is clearing away! Father, it is clearing away. We can go and see the freshet.”
They went out upon the steps to look at the sky. A few drops of rain were still falling, but the clouds appeared to be breaking in several places, and the tract of golden sky in the west was rising and extending. The air was calm, and the golden rays of the sun shone upon the fields and trees, and upon the glittering drops that hung from the leaves and branches. Rollo and Lucy both said it was beautiful.
They went in and urged their father to go with them down to the brook to see the freshet, but he said they must wait till after tea. “It is too wet to go now,” said he.
“But, father,” said Rollo, “I do not think it will be any better after tea. The ground cannot dry in half an hour.”
“No,” said his father; “but the water will run off of the paths a great deal, so that we can get along much better.”
“Well, but then it will run off from the brook a great deal too, and the freshet will not be so high.”
“It is a little different with the brook,” his father replied, “for that is very long, and the water comes a great way, from among the hills. Now, while we are taking tea, the water will be running into the brook back among the hills, faster than it will run away here, so that it will grow higher and higher for some hours.”