ort George Island is certainly a beautiful place for a summer or a
winter residence, or for both. It is three and a half miles long, not
including the sand-bar at the end, and a mile wide. On one side is the
ocean, and on the other the Sisters' Channel, one of the inside
passages by which steamers reach Savannah and Fernandina.

Owen told me the party would sail for Jacksonville at four o'clock, and
dine as soon as the steamer was under way. All the excursionists
landed, and leaving Washburn in charge, I went with them. Cornwood
began to discharge his duties as guide as soon as we were on shore; but
a considerable portion of the party were familiar with the island, and
he did not have a large audience.

"This shell road," said he, as we left the wharf, "is the beginning of
Edgewood Avenue, which is two miles and a half long. At the farther end
of it is the hotel."

He continued his explanations to those who desired to hear them during
the entire walk. I shall not repeat them. I found that he could give
the name of every tree, plant, and flower we saw on the way. He had a
name for every bird, bug, and worm; and I am ready to acknowledge that
the extent, variety, and minuteness of his knowledge astonished me,
partly because my prejudice led me to expect nothing of him. That those
who brag most know least, did not appear to prove true in his case; for
he did not have to "give it up" on any question asked him by the
tourists of our party. He related the history of the island, and there
was not a single particular concerning it on which he was not fully
informed.

After crossing the beach on the shell road, we came to the forest of
live-oaks, magnolias, palmettos, bay-trees, and others that one never
sees in Maine or Michigan. I walked with Mr. Tiffany, and we agreed
that this was one of the most delightful places we had visited. Pretty
soon we were joined by Miss Margie and Miss Edith, who had become
inseparable friends and companions. I learned that the Tiffanys had
already accepted the invitation of Owen and Colonel Shepard to join the
party for the up-river trip.

"Are there no snakes on this island, Captain Garningham?" asked Miss
Margie, soon after we entered the wood.

"I dare say there are; but I don't know anything about it," I replied.

"Undoubtedly there are snakes on the island," interposed Mr. Cornwood;
and I saw that he glanced at me, with a smile, as if in allusion to my
experience on the evening befor