"See, we're almost out of the river," cried Twinny, hanging over the rail. "Isn't the lake lovely and foamy? Oh, we're beginning to rock some! Isn't it fine? I don't mind it a bit."
"Look at the people at the life-saving station," called Bess. "See, they're all waving to us. Let's wave back. What are they all cheering and laughing for? I wonder—"
But we never did find out what Bess wondered; for, all of a sudden, the forward end of the boat seemed to rise straight up into the air,—and then, as suddenly, to drop to such a depth that the whole bunch of us, being absolutely unprepared for it, just simply took a "slide for life" clear across that deck, rolling and tumbling, chairs, boxes, and everything else, and never stopped until we brought up in a pile, close up against the cabindoor. There were about twenty others mixed up with us, and you never saw such a promiscuous bundle of people and things in all your life.
For a moment there wasn't a sound,—every one was too astonished to open his mouth,—and then as the boat rose to meet another swell there came a regular Bedlam of cries and laughter and exclamations, and a wild scramble to get
