others to her point of view; and it was no wonder, then, that Fritz, too, had begun to follow her in her admiration for the great poets.
But Amy and Fritz were both fond of fun, and as they sat this day at Mrs. Redmond’s little dining-table, they showed that their spirits were running high.
“Now, Mrs. Redmond, if you say that we cannot go over to Marblehead, I shall consider you the hardest-hearted parent that ever was,—I really shall.”
“Ah, Fritz,” replied Mrs. Redmond, with a smile, “I have n’t a word to say about your going to Marblehead. You know what your uncle would approve, and really I can’t see much harm in your going. But it’s so different for a girl.”
“Why, Mrs. Redmond, have n’t I heard you say that you believed that a girl ought to be as brave and fearless as a boy? and Amy is always preaching courage to me. Now I’m sure that if there are any dangers to be overcome in Marblehead, Amy ought to have a shy at them, as well as I.”
There was a gleam of mischief in the boy’s eye, and Mrs. Redmond understood that his speech was not intended to be disrespectful.
“I don’t anticipate any great disturbance in Marblehead to-day, and I daresay that toward evening the harbor will look very pretty. Undoubtedly, there will be illuminations on some of the yachts, and—”
“But, mother, dear, it won’t do us any good, even
