d headlands, appeared, so that
their progress was a succession of surprises. Here and there were dots
of islands too, just big enough to afford standing-room to a dozen
pines and hemlocks, so closely crowded together that the trees next
the edge almost seemed to be holding fast by their companions while
they leaned over to look at their own faces in the water.

These tiny islets enchanted Eyebright. With each one they passed she
thought, "Oh, I hope ours is just like that!" never reflecting that
these were rather play islands than real ones, and that Genevieve was
the only member of the family likely to be comfortable in such limited
space as they afforded. She had the deck and the river to herself for
nearly an hour before any of the passengers appeared; when they did,
she remembered, with a blush, that her hair was still unbrushed, and
ran back to the cabin, when the stewardess made it tidy, and gave her
a basin of fresh water for her face and hands. She came back just in
time to meet papa, who was astonished at the color in her cheek and
the appetite she displayed at breakfast, which was served in a stuffy
cabin smelling of kerosene oil and bed-clothes, and calculated to
discourage any appetite not sharpened by early morning air.

Little did Eyebright care for the stuffy cabin. She found the boat and
all its appointments delightful; and when, after breakfast, the old
captain took her down to the engine-room and showed her the machinery,
she fairly skipped with pleasure. It was a sort of noisy fairy-land to
her imagination; all those wonderful cogs and wheels, and shining rods
and shafts, moving and working together so smoothly and so powerfully.
She was sorry enough when, at eleven o'clock, they left the boat, and
landed at a small hamlet, which seemed to have no name as yet, perhaps
because it was so very young. Eyebright asked a boy what they called
the town, but all he said in reply was, "'Tain't a teown"--and
something about a "Teownship," which she didn't at all understand.

Here they had some dinner, and Mr. Bright hired a wagon to take them
"'cross country" to Scrapplehead, which was the village nearest to
"Causey Island," as Eyebright now learned that their future home was
called. "Cosy," papa pronounced it. The name pleased her greatly, and
she said to herself, for perhaps the five-hundredth time, "I _know_ it
is going to be nice."

It was twenty-two miles from the nameless village to Scrapplehead, but
i