DUNE PARK 159 



lady-slippers, and in the clear black water, un- 

 canny sun-dews and fat pitcher-plants digesting 

 their insect dinners. 



One spring day when we ranged the dunes 

 with our botanist friend, we found almost under 

 the clumps of blue-berried juniper, the trailing 

 arbutus, and in one little spot he reverently 

 showed us linnaea, the low fragrant arctic flower 

 which the great Swedish botanist chose to bear 

 his name. 



We must turn our faces back toward the rail- 

 road early, for once out of sight of the lake it is 

 easy to lose one's way and we may have a long 

 walk to the station. To miss the train would mean 

 to spend the night in Dune Park goodness 

 knows how. We are going to camp for a week 

 in the dunes, but until then we do not wish night 

 to overtake us there. 



Laden with whatever harmless booty the sea- 

 son yields, sunburned and weary of foot, we take 

 the train for our long ride home. 



As we walk through the streets to our trolley 

 car, we see many a dull eye brighten, and many a 

 hard face soften into a smile at the sight of our 

 load. 



We are better in body and in soul, as we come 

 trailing some little clouds of glory back to our 



