CHAPTER III. 



alway- eoines to the gay reveller who has 

 exhausted all the night in feasting, drink and song, and 

 drunken laughter, to Hie weary watcher by sick beds, 

 to Hie fever tossed, the sorrow laden, the care burdened, 



to tile toilers and guardians of the night, to the dwellers 

 in palaces, pillowed on down. and to men in a hut. sleep 

 ing on hushes, all in a row. It didn't skip us. and eiirlit 

 men yawningly hailed the early dawn, and crawled out of 

 the cabin. 



The sun "was ju<t peering over the mountain aero the 

 lake, and Hinging his silvery-golden heam< down upon 

 the sparkling waters. The forests in their morning fre<h 

 ness wore a tenderer green. The sweet morning air was 

 fragrant uilh balsam and spruce and mossy earth. The 

 crossbills Hilled in startled and darting llight from our 

 cabin roof, to the neiuhboring trees, and back again, utter 

 ing their quick, sharp notes, in search of the crumbs from 

 our table. Nature's own morning hour, unvexed by the 

 smoke and dust and busy rumble and roar of civilized 

 life, had come to Ihe \vil<lrnir<s. 



" How do you like it V" said Benson, after quietly watch 

 ing me a few moments as I ^a/ed in evident, keen enjoy- 

 ment of the scene. 'Beautiful' i^n't any \\ord for il 



