“The racers are coming in, the racers are coming in!” cried Fritz, excitedly, from his place on the deck near the stern, where he had been watching every movement of the scattered fleet.
The two leading boats soon appeared, close together, with all their kites drawing beautifully. They made a very close finish, the winner only crossing the line a few seconds ahead of her rival. As soon as they crossed the line, both boats luffed up in the wind, and all light sails were taken in. They then proceeded slowly to their own moorings, while the others came in not many minutes later. The finish line was between two flags moored in the harbor, so that the judges on the piazzas of the Club-house could tell exactly when a boat crossed the line. When the winning-boat crossed the line, a gun from the Club-house sounded, but this was the only noise that marked the end of the race.
“It is n’t quite as exciting as I thought it would be,” said Julia, “I suppose one needs to know a great deal about boats to feel much interest in a sailing race.”
“I tell you what—you ought to have been here this morning for the water sports; they would have been exciting enough for you, I am sure.”
“Oh, tell us about them!” cried Nora. “I ’ve never happened to see them myself.”
“Well, this morning they had a hobby-horse race. The hobby-horses were barrels, with a long stick run through them—a head at one end, a tail at the other, and the men who rode them wore bathing-suits, and the barrels rolled
