112 



expects to be the body slave of its 

 President. 



A gay little offshoot of the rush- 

 ing brook beyond, babbled past our 

 tent door. Nirnrod was sketching 

 some great blue berries that hung 

 over it. Again I flung myself on the 

 bank to rest a "vast half -hour" 

 before dinner. How plentifully hun- 

 ger throws itself about in this active 

 life! 



" If anyone should happen to take 

 a photograph of this scene it would 

 meet with my approval," said Nim- 

 rod, looking hard at me. " The cam- 

 era is on my saddle pommel over 

 there. You can see I'm busy." I 

 arose resignedly; evidently no lotus 

 eating was to be tolerated in that 

 camp. 



" 'First one thing and then an- 

 other, always cheerful and busy, 

 that's my motto,' said the old 

 woman as she dug up flowers to see 

 if they were growing. Nimrod, will 

 you set your hat back a little, please. 

 Sally, put down that towel, that's 

 a dear. Tut, tut, Bobbie Tevis, I 

 suspect you of posing, you have not 

 carried that gun all day and there is 



