A BED OF BOUGHS. 195 



what were her unfulfilled destinies? She wore a 

 sprig of prince's pine in her hair, which gave a touch 

 peculiarly welcome. 



" Pretty loriely," she said, in answer to my inquiry ; 

 " only an occasional fisherman in summer, and in 

 winter nobody at all." 



And the little new school-house in the woods far- 

 ther on, with its half dozen scholars and the girlish 

 face of the teacher seen through the open door 

 nothing less than the exhilaration of a journey on 

 foot could have made it seem the interesting object it 

 was. Two of the little girls had been to the spring 

 after a pail of water and came struggling out of the 

 woods into the road with it as we passed. They set 

 down their pail and regarded us with a half curious, 

 half alarmed look. 



" What is your teacher's name ? " asked one of us. 



" Miss Lucinde Josephine " began the red- 

 haired one, then hesitated, bewildered, when the 

 bright, dark-eyed one cut her short with " Miss 

 Simms," and taking hold of the pail said, " Come 

 on." 



" Are there any scholars from above here ? " I in- 

 quired. 



" Yes, Bobbie and Matie," and they hastened to- 

 ward the door. 



We once more stopped under a bridge for refresh- 

 ments, and took our time, knowing the train would 

 not go on without us. By four o'clock we were 

 tcross the mountain, having passed from the water- 



