Peaches collapsed in Peter's arms in open-
mouthed wonder. "Gosh! How did it cave in like that?" she cried.
Peter's shoulders were shaking, but he answered gravely: "Well that's a
way it has of puffing itself up and making a great big pretense that it is
going to flop us, and then if just little Bobbie or Ma waves an apron or a
stick it gets out of the way in a hurry."
"I've seen Multiopolis millyingaires cave in like that sometimes when I
waved a morning paper with an inch-high headline about them," commented
Mickey.
Peter Harding glanced at his wife, then they laughed together. Peter
stepped over a snake fence, went carefully down a hill, crossed the meadow
to the shade of a tree, sat on the bank of the brook and watched Peaches
as she studied first the clear babbling water, then the grass trailing in
the stream, the bushes, trees, and then the water again.
"Mickey, come here!" she commanded. "Put your head right down beside mine.
Now look just the way I do, an' tell me what you see."
"I see running water, grassy banks, trees, the birds, the sky and the
clouds--the water shows what's above it like a mirror, Lily.
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