gh the ceremony of friendship a second time, under
the walls of the old mill.

"Returning to our former subject," began the Doctor again--"for I hope
to have many further opportunities for conversation with you concerning
your distinguished relative--I should add, while we are still beside
this memento, that the early Spanish settlers of this coast--"

"As a last wish," interrupted Garda, in a drowsy voice, "wait for the
resurrection."

"As a last wish?" said the Doctor, turning his profile towards her with
his head on one side, in his canary-bird way.

"Yes. I see that you have begun upon the history of the Spaniards in
Florida, and as I shall certainly fall asleep, I think I ought to
protect, as far as possible beforehand, my own especial ancestors," she
answered, still somnolent; "they always have that effect upon me--the
Spaniards in Florida." And as she slowly pronounced these last words the
long lashes drooped over her eyes, she let her head fall back against
the block behind her, and was apparently lost in dreams.

In this seeming slumber she made a lovely picture. But its chief charm
to Evert Winthrop lay in the fact that it had in it so much more of the
sportiveness of the child than of the consciousness of the woman. "I am
interested in the old Spaniards, I confess," he said, "but not to the
extent of allowing them to put you to sleep in this fashion. We will
leave them where they are for the present (of course Elysium), and ask
you to take us to the crane; his powers of entertainment are evidently
greater than our own." And he offered his hand as if to assist her to
rise.

"I am not quite gone yet," replied Garda, laughing, as she rose without
accepting it. "But we must take things in their regular order, the
magnolias come next; the crane, as our greatest attraction, is kept for
the last." And she led the way along a path which brought them to a
grove of sweet-gum-trees; the delicately cut leaves did not make a thick
foliage, but adorned the boughs with lightness, each one visible on its
slender stalk; the branches were tenanted by a multitude of little
birds, whose continuous carols kept the air filled with a shower of fine
small notes.

"How they sing!" said Winthrop. "I am amazed at myself for never having
been in Florida before. The Suwannee River can't be far from here.

"''Way down upon de Suwannee River,
Far, far away--'

I must confess that Nilsson's singing it is the most I kn