them a chance to make up, or at least to say all that they had to say without a third person present to criticise.
But although, as you may have observed, Amy and Fritz for some time had been cherishing a certain amount of ill-feeling against each other, when they met they wasted no time in fault-finding or even in apologies. Fritz saw that Amy was in trouble, and he meant to help her. Amy as soon as she heard Fritz’s voice, knew that he was still her friend. There was no need of words to tell this. Indeed, when two friends have fallen out, whether they are boys or girls, if they are really friends, they ought to be able to make up without any great amount of explanation or apologizing. Of course if one has really done the other an injury, proper amends should be made. But misunderstandings between friends are so often the result of a little false pride, of the fact that one has expected the other to say or do something that has been left unsaid or undone. When, therefore, the time for reconciliation comes, and it always will come with those who have been really friends, “Least said, soonest mended” is a very good motto.
“Come here, Ben,” called Fritz, and the other boy, laying his wheel flat on the sand, ran towards him.
“Come, lend a hand with this boat. It’s got to be pushed off into the water, and it’s going to be hard to start it.” At last, however, by prodding and pushing, a start was made, and then a further push sent the boat a little nearer to the water. Amy herself had to help; and although the three put their whole strength into it,
