self so miserable. I remember almost every moment of this
time--so long ago.

One day as we were fishing we were obliged to clamber along the bank
where a tree crowded us so far over the water that Virginia, in stooping
to pass under the body of the tree, was about to fall; and I jumped down
into the stream and caught her in my arms as she was losing her hold. I
found her arms about my neck as she clung to me; and, standing in the
water, I turned her about in my arms, rather roughly of necessity,
caught one arm about her waist and the other under the hollows of her
knees and held her so.

"Don't let me fall," she begged.

"I won't," I said--and I could say no more.

"You've got your feet all wet," said she.

"I don't care," I said--and stopped.

"How clumsy of me!" she exclaimed.

"It was a hard place to get around," said I.

"I hope you didn't lose the fish," said she.

"No," said I, "I dropped the string of them in the grass."

Now this conversation lasted a second, from one way of looking at it,
and a very long time from another; and all the time I was standing
there, knee-deep in the water, with Virginia's arms about my neck, her
cheek almost against mine, one of my arms about her waist and the other
under the hollows of her knees--and I had made no movement for putting
her ashore.

"You're very strong," said she, "or you would have dropped me in the
water."

"Oh," said I, "that's nothing"--and I pressed her closer.

"How will you get me back on land?" she asked; and really it was a
subject which one might have expected to come up sooner or later.

I turned about with her and looked down-stream; then I turned back and
looked up-stream; then I looked across to the opposite bank, at least
six feet away; then I carried her up-stream for a few yards; then I
started back down-stream.

"There's no good place there," said I--and I looked a long, long look
into her eyes which happened to be scanning my face just then. She
blushed rosily.

"Any place will do," she said. "Let me down right here where I can get
the fish!"

And slowly, reluctantly, with great pains that she should not be
scratched by briars, bitten by snakes, brushed by poison-ivy, muddied by
the wet bank, or threatened with another fall, I put her down. She
looked diligently in the grass for the fish, picked them up, and ran off
to camp. After she had disappeared, I heard the bushes rustle, and
looked up as I sat on the bank wringing the