A STRENUOUS HOLIDAY 



oaken water-wheel. We all perched on the wheel 

 and had our pictures taken. 



At our lunch that day, by the side of a spring, a 

 twelve-year-old girl appeared in the road above us 

 with a pail of apples for sale. We invited her into 

 our camp, an invitation she timidly accepted. We 

 took all of her apples. I can see her yet with her 

 shining eyes as she crumpled the new one-dollar 

 bill which one of the party placed in her hand. 

 She did not look at it; the feel of it told the story 

 to her. We quizzed her about many things and 

 got straight, clear-cut answers — a very firm, level- 

 headed little maid. Her home was on the hill 

 above us. We told her the names of some of the 

 members of the party, and after she had returned 

 home we saw an aged man come out to the gate 

 and look down upon us. An added interest was 

 felt whenever we came in contact with any of the 

 local population. Birds and flowers and trees and 

 springs and mills were something, but human 

 flowers and rills of human life were better. I do 

 not forget the other maiden, twelve or thirteen 

 years old, to whom we gave a lift of a few miles on 

 her way. She had been on a train five times, and 

 once had been forty miles from home. Her mother 

 was dead and her father lived in Pennsylvania, and 

 she was living with her grandfather. When asked 

 how far it was to Elkins she said, "Ever and ever 

 so many miles." 



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