subsided into private life in the stern of the
broad, red camp-skiff, scribbling something
in verse form to be read at the White Birch
celebration in the afternoon when land as
well as lake was a-riot with young,color,
strewn with wild flowers for gay June to
tread on.

"Oh! isn't it the most wonderful--wonderful
season? In the city we go
camping too late. The freshness isn't
there." Pem's eyes were dim as she applied
one to the lens of the microscope, to
gaze once more at the painted Tritons;
she was glad that in the freshness of the
year it was--oh! so soon now--that the
little Thunder Bird would momentarily
color the skies and paint the World rose-colored
in excitement over its demonstration--
over the heights that could be
reached--paving the way for the Triton
of Tritons to come.

"Well! if we spend any more time with
the minnows, we'll have to 'cut out' the
'fresh-water sheep', the little roaches, and
[[201]]

p200 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p201w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p202

v?