toifhout 

 a Gun 



comes into his net, and everything is game 

 that catches the glance of his eye in earth or 

 air or water. Now it is the water-spiders 

 skaters the boys call them that play a curi- 

 ous game among the grass stems, and that 

 have more wonderful habits than the com- 

 mon balloon spiders which sometimes turned 

 Jonathan Edwards' thoughts from the stern, 

 unlovable God of his theology to the patient, 

 care-taking Servant of the universe that some 

 call Force, and others Law, and that one 

 who knew Him called The Father, alike 

 among the lilies of the field and in the cities 

 of men. Now it is an otter and her cubs 

 playing on the surface, that sink when they 

 see you and suddenly come up near your 

 canoe, like a log shot up on end, and with 

 half their bodies out of water to see better 

 say w-h-e-e-e-yew ! like a baby seal to express 

 their wonder at such a queer thing in the 

 water. Now it is a mother loon taking her 

 young on her back as they leave the eggs, 

 and carrying them around the lake awhile to 

 dry them thoroughly in the sun before she 

 dives from under them and wets them for 



