ons and some rugs
belonging to it, and I've arranged to keep it down behind the inn so
it won't be far for us to go to it. Now, I want you to be ready to
take a trial trip this afternoon at three when Leslie and I get
through our classes."

With much inward questioning but entire loyalty Julia Cloud yielded
herself to the uncertainties of canoeing, but it needed but that first
trip to make her an ardent admirer of that form of recreation.
Re-creation it really seemed to her to be, as she sank among the
pillows in the comfortable nest the children had prepared for her, and
felt herself glide out upon the smooth bosom of the creek into the
glow of the autumn afternoon. For in the shelter of the winding ravine
where the creek wandered the frost had not yet completed its work, and
the trees were still in glowing colors, blending brilliantly with the
dark green of the hemlock. A few stark trunks were bare and bleak
against the sky in unsheltered places, but for the most part the banks
of the creek still set forth a most pleasing display to the
nature-lover who chose to come and see. Winding dark and soft and
still, with braided ripples here and there, and little floating brown
leaves that slithered against the boat as they passed, the creek
meandered between the hills, now turning almost upon itself around a
mossy, grassy stretch of meadow-land, skirting a chestnut-grove, or
slipping beneath great rocks that cropped out on the hillside, where
moss had crept in a lovely carpet, and graceful hemlocks found a
foothold and leaned over to dip in the water and brush the faces of
those who passed. Up, up, and up, through the frantic little rapids
that bubbled and fought and were conquered, into the stiller waters
above, between banks all dark and green and quiet, most brilliantly
and cunningly embroidered with exquisite squawberry vines and scarlet
berries. It was most entrancing, and Julia Cloud was reluctant to come
home. No need ever to coax her any more. She was ready always to go in
that canoe, jealous of anything that prevented a chance to go.

Often she and Cherry, instead of getting a hot lunch at home, would
put up the most delectable lunch in paper boxes, and when the children
came home she would be ready to go right down to the canoe and spend
two delightful hours floating up and down the creek and eating an
unconscionable number of sandwiches and cakes. This happened most
often on Wednesdays, when the children had no