"Black," said Ellen, dubiously, "why! — I don't like that."
"Why, the water's all dark and black, don't you see?"
"Well," said Ellen; "let it be Black, then; but I don't like
it. Now, remember, — this is Niagara, that is Black, and this
is Trenton; and what is this?"
"If you are going to name them all," said Nancy, "we shan't
get home to-night; you might as well name all the trees —
there's a hundred of 'em, and more. I say, Ellen, suppos'n' we
follow the brook instead of climbing up yonder again; it will
take us out to the open fields by and by."
"Oh, do let's!" said Ellen; "that will be lovely."
It proved a rough way; but Ellen still thought and called it
"lovely." Often by the side of the stream there was no footing
at all, and the girls picked their way over the stones, large
and small, wet and dry, which strewed its bed; against which
the water foamed, and fumed, and fretted, as if in great
impatience. It was ticklish work getting along over these
stones; now tottering on an unsteady one, now slipping on a
wet one — and every now and then making huge leaps from rock
to rock, which there was no other method of reaching, at the
imminent hazard of falling in. But they laughed at the danger;
sprang on in great glee, delighted with the exercise and the
fun; didn't stay long enough anywhere to lose their balance,
and enjoyed themselves amazingly.
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