JoE AND CRONIE. 9 
OL 

it to the lake in the afternoon to try their new canoe boat. 
Arriving, they turn it over right side up and place it for 
the first time upon the water. First exclamation from Joe. 
‘© Cronie, isn’t she a daisy?” 
‘¢Correct you are, Joe, she is a darling daisy.” 
And in the enthusiasm of the moment both exclaim in 
chorus: ‘dearest darlingest, daisiest daisy.” At this happy 
outburst, no doubt the reader may smile, but they will not 
mind it just now, for their bonny boat called ‘+ Zhe Same 
Please” is just a perfect beauty. Not large, just large 
enough, all cedar, every part of it, the knees and stern pieces 
natural cedar crooks from the butts grown upon the lake 
shore. Sharp, both ends alike, and it paddles away over the 
water like a new eighteen foot birch bark canoe. 
*¢Sails well enough to suit even the Doctor,” says Joe. 
** Not a bit cranky, and would carry half a dozen easily, 
but is just the thing for two or three.” 
Joe, the happy builder, has surpassed himself in this his 
last boat —has proved himself an artist indeed. 
‘¢ Joe, we thank you, the Doctor and I,” says Cronie. 
Joe now taking the oars and Cronie the light cedar paddle, 
that was made from the white sap part of a straight, tough 
and young cedar, they go skipping out upon the waves, the 
breeze driving back to the alders upon the shore the few early 
black flies which attempted to follow them, at which they 
smile. On they go, merrily dancing, across the lake to one 
of their best fishing grounds and arrive all anxious, and ex- 
pecting a trout supper. Joe soaks his leaders and proceeds 
to switch with black gnat and brown hackle, and the little 
blue butterfly, but all to no purpose, not a rise. 
"<Not one, Joe?” 
