A COMPOSITE FAMILY 



249 



Joe Pye, Ironweeds, and rank -grown river tangle, 

 to be clearly mirrored in the water. 



One glowing August morning, when a fresh 

 easterly wind, having dispersed the heat 

 haze, brought an invigorating hint of 

 September, Nell and I started 

 out to look for Time o' Year. 

 It was the first day that I had 

 ever deliberately tried to find 

 him. I had oftentimes wondered 

 as to his whereabouts, or ex- 

 pected to see him in some ac- 

 customed field, or following the 

 river path, but usually I had 

 come upon him unexpectedly, 

 or he had overtaken me in a mys- 

 terious manner, as if in answer to 

 a telepathic impression, at the very 

 moment when he was most needed 

 as a guide or counselor. 



Where to locate him this day 

 was indeed a question. His range 

 was wide, and his little cabin the 

 most unlikely place to find him 

 between sunrise and sunset. So, 



