A BED OF BOUGHS 



" 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 

 inquired. 



"Yes, Bobbie and Matie," and they hastened 

 toward 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 

 across the mountain, having passed from the water- 

 shed of the Delaware into that of the Hudson. The 

 next eight miles we had a down grade but a rough 

 road, and during the last half of it we had blisters 

 on the bottoms of our feet. It is one of the rewards 

 of the pedestrian that, however tired he may be, 

 he is always more or less refreshed by his journey. 

 His physical tenement has taken an airing. His 

 respiration has been deepened, his circulation quick- 

 ened. A good draught has carried off the fumes and 

 the vapors. One's quality is intensified; the color 

 strikes in. At noon that day I was much fatigued; 

 at night I was leg-weary and footsore, but a fresh, 

 hardy feeling had taken possession of me that lasted 

 for weeks. 



