lefactions on the part of some of the keepers of boarding
houses in the neighborhood. There was cold pork, usually potent to bring
me nightmares, and an obese pie to be washed down with pale tea. Under
my breath I deplored the luck that had made me forget to bring digestive
tablets and, spurred by unusual appetite, I gorged myself.

The evening was a short one, spent on the porch where I lolled in a
hammock, while Frances rocked in a big chair. There was no need to talk,
for it was all very new and beautiful. The katydids and tree-frogs took
charge of the conversation for us. After a time Eulalie joined us,
sitting modestly on the steps. With much genuine sentiment she spoke of
the cabbages of her own land and of cows she had once cherished.

"It is like the heaven of the _Bon Dieu_ to smell these things again,"
she informed us, and I decided that she had spoken a great and splendid
truth.

We retired early. In my own little room, with the oil-lamp burning, I
commented sadly on the fact that it was only half past nine, the hour at
which my busy life commonly begins. Upon the bed I looked hopelessly; it
was inviting enough, but, at this time of day, about as attractive as
plum-pudding for breakfast. For an hour I read a magazine; the katydids
were still clamoring softly and, in the distance, in the direction of
the lake, I heard the plaintive notes of whippoorwills. Then I caught
myself in a blessed yawn and went to bed. But a few moments seemed to
have gone by, when I awoke in a room flooded with sunshine and
penetrated by a myriad of joyful sounds coming from the Noah's Ark of
the farm. Looking out of the window I was shamed by the sight of Eulalie
who, with Baby Paul in her arms, strolled about the kitchen garden,
evidently lost in rapture at the sight of leeks and radishes.

I hurried my dressing, donning a pair of white flannel trousers I had
bought for the sake of bestowing upon myself some atmosphere of the
country, and found Frances sitting in the hammock with Towser's big,
nondescript head in her lap.

"I hope you slept ever so well," she told me, looking very radiant and
putting out her hand. "And, David, I'm so wonderfully happy. Look at the
beautiful lake! We will have to go over there after breakfast, and,
perhaps, you can row in a boat, and we will take Eulalie and Baby with
us. Or perhaps you can go fishing, or may be you would rather stay
quietly here and have a nice long rest. And just listen to that