n a dozen new windows, and had then
painted the whole structure a brilliant, importunate white. This process
he called "making it wholesome."

This northerner, not having succeeded in teaching the southern soil how
to improve itself, had returned to the more intelligent lands of colder
climates; he was obliged to leave his house behind him, and he
contemplated with hope the possibility of renting it "for a water-cure."
Why a water-cure no one but himself knew. He was a man haunted by
visions of water-cures.

Lansing Harold had no intention of trying hydropathy, unless the wide
view of the river from all his windows could be called that. But he said
that if he were there, at least he should not feel "jostled."

Jostled he certainly was not, he and his two attendants, Margaret and
the colored servants she had with some difficulty obtained, had much
more the air of Robinson Crusoes and Fridays on their island; for the
hotel, which was the nearest house, was five miles distant, and not in
sight, and the river was so broad that only an occasional smoke told
that there were abodes of men opposite on the low hazy shore.

Once established in his new quarters, Lanse advanced rapidly towards a
more endurable stage of existence. He was still unable to move his legs;
but he could now bear being lifted into a canoe, and, once in, with a
cushion behind him, he could paddle himself over the smooth water with
almost as much ease as ever. He sent for a canoe which was just large
enough to hold him; boat and occupant seemed like one person, so
perfectly did the small craft obey the motion of his oar. One of his men
was always supposed to accompany him; the two boats generally started
together from the little home pier; but Lanse soon invented a way of
ordering his follower to "wait" for him at this point or that, while he
took "a run" up some creek that looked inviting. The "run" usually
proved the main expedition of the day, and the "waiting" would be
perhaps five hours long,--the two attendants could not complain of
overwork; they soon learned, however, to go to sleep comfortably in the
bottom of the boat. Oftenest of all, Lanse and his canoe went up the
Juana; the Jana came from the Monnlungs Swamp; as the spring deepened,
and all the flowers came out, Lanse and his little box went floating up
to the Monnlungs almost every day.

Mrs. Rutherford had not seen her "boy;" he could not yet endure the
motion of any carriage, even the e