A SUMMER VOYAGE 



looking housewife, when I came up from under the 

 bank in front of her house, and with pail in hand 

 appeared at her door and asked for milk, taking 

 the precaution to intimate that I had no objection 

 to the yellow scum that is supposed to rise on a 

 fresh article of that kind. 



" What kind of milk do you want ? " 



"The best you have. Give me two quarts of 

 it," I replied. 



"What do you want to do with it?" with an 

 anxious tone, as if I might want to blow up some- 

 thing or burn her barns with it. 



"Oh, drink it," I answered, as if I frequently 

 put milk to that use. 



" Well, I suppose I can get you some ; " and she 

 presently reappeared with swimming pail, with 

 those little yellow flakes floating about upon it that 

 one likes to see. 



I passed several low dams the second day, but 

 had no trouble. I dismounted and stood upon the 

 apron, and the boat, with plenty of line, came over 

 as lightly as a chip, and swung around in the eddy 

 below like a steed that knows its master. In the 

 afternoon, while slowly drifting down a long eddy, 

 the moist southwest wind brought me the welcome 

 odor of strawberries, and running ashore by a 

 meadow, a short distance below, I was soon parting 

 the daisies and filling my cup with the dead-ripe 

 fruit. Berries, be they red, blue, or black, seem like 

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