"I don’t see that it is sad! I don’t know that youth is such a particularly happy period of one’s existence," Hazel began, but Doris pursed her lips warningly, glancing significantly toward her young sister, giving her worldly-wise friend to understand that they must suit their conversation to the most youthful among them. Hazel, while appreciating the wisdom that dictated the caution, could not bring herself to own, in this instance, that such prudence was necessary. She was about to make reply, when excited voices of children, raised in distress, attracted the attention of the three girls, and next moment they were running at full speed toward the spot whence the cries proceeded. "I am afraid one of them has fallen into the water," Doris panted. "Leave it to me," Hazel gasped back, "I can swim. They may be only quarrelling." But a strange fear at her heart gave denial to her words, and urged her on, ever faster. As they neared the bank, a small child emerged from behind the line of willows that edged the water, and sped toward them in wildest distress. "Bobbie," she sobbed, "oh, he’s drownded dead, he’s drownded dead." "Come and show me," Hazel called to the child as she passed, but the little thing only stood wringing her hands. There were other children upon the bank, however, and Hazel soon learned that Bobbie had risen twice since his immersion, each time lower down the stream. There was no time to lose if she would save the boy’s life. Tearing off her hat, she ran several yards lower, so far as she could judge, than the spot where he had been last seen, and, springing into the river, struck out and reached its centre, where the current was strongest, at the same moment that the child’s unconscious form rose for the third time and drifted against her. With a little cry of thankfulness, Hazel seized the helpless body, and, careful to keep the head above water, began to return. It was difficult: the current was strong, and she had only the use of one arm; her clothes hampered her terribly; but at length she succeeded in bringing her burden to shore, where many willing hands were held out to rescue. Hazel was panting distressfully, but she did not lose a moment in setting about the task of bringing breath back to the seemingly lifeless body. Phyllis she sent post-haste to the house for brandy, and, bidding the little group of children to stand back, she gave the child into Doris’s arms.