vour of adoption. The Baby from the first was entirely
accustomed to being 'sat upon.' He had no unnecessary independence of
mind. At twenty-one he still continued to be 'Baby.'

All the affairs of the Syndicate flourished, including the feud with
the neighbouring landowner. All went well with the men and their boats
and the Baby, until, at length, upon one fateful day for the latter,
there came a young person to the locality who made an addition to the
household of Farmer Johns.

'Old Johns has got a niece,' said the bachelors sitting at dinner, as if
the niece had come fresh to the world as babies do, and had not held the
same relation to old Johns for twenty-five years. Still, it was true she
had never been in the old man's possession before, and now she had
arrived at his house, a sudden vision of delight as seen from the road
or on the verandah.

Now Helen Johns was a beauty; no one unbiassed by the party spirit of a
time-honoured feud would have denied that. She was not, it is true, of
the ordinary type of beauty, whose chief ornament is an effort at
captivation. She did not curl her hair; she did not lift her eyes and
smile when she was talking to men; she did not trouble herself to put on
her prettiest gown when the evening train came in, bringing the
bachelors from the city. She was tall--five foot eight in her stockings;
all her muscles were well developed; there was nothing sylph-like about
her waist, but all her motions had a strong, gentle grace of their own
that bespoke health and dignity. She had a profession, too, which was
much beneath most of the be-crimped and smile-wreathed maidens who
basked in the favour of the bachelors. She had been to New York and had
learned to teach gymnastics, the very newest sort; 'Delsart' or
'Emerson,' or some such name, attached to the rhythmic motions she
performed. The Syndicate had no opportunity to criticise the gymnastic
performance, for they had not the honour of her acquaintance; they
criticised everything else, the smooth hair, the high brow, the
well-proportioned waist, the profession; they decided that she was not
beautiful.

There were, roughly speaking, two classes of girls in this summer
settlement, each held in favour by the Syndicate men according as
personal taste might dispose. There were the girls who in a cheerful
manner were ever to be found walking or boating in such hours and places
as would assuredly bring them into contact with the happy bachel