RIVER FOREST 33 



In a green breezy meadow, under fresh green 

 willows, where the water riffles and shimmers in 

 the sun, we have our lunch, and loiter about 

 while the big boy fishes and catches nothing. 



We have not been alone on the river. An occa- 

 sional canoe has floated by us, and we have passed 

 silent fishermen, sitting on the bank singly or in 

 little groups. And one of them caught a fish, 

 for we saw it frying over a fire made of dry brush. 



Of all our country haunts this is the most fre- 

 quented. All sorts and conditions meet on the 

 Desplaines. Automobilists picking boughs of 

 the crab-apples that are just coming into blossom 

 close to the road; bicyclers trundling their wheels 

 through the woods; young mechanics and shop 

 girls strolling arm in arm along the path; artists 

 sketching at a bend in the river; nursemaids 

 wheeling babies in go-carts, to the joy of the big 

 little girl; schoolboys playing ball in a clearing, 

 to the envy of the big boy, and, most wonderful 

 of all, some of the residents themselves ! 



The dwellers along the river do not regard 

 visitors from the city with favor. It is only 

 Mother who can get what she wants. The rest 

 of us are turned back, and even refused water to 

 drink. The o. m., stern and commanding, is 

 utterly helpless, but when Mother asks, the most 



