JOE AND CRONIE. LEY 
They lift the baskets and start upon the promenade, turning 
their backs, decided to look no more upon the stream when 
it’s so ‘‘all alive,” yet they turn when upon the higher land, 
and cannot help stopping once more to look back just a 
moment and say good bye to the now sunlighted waters, and 
then plunge manfully on for the old blazed spruce that shows 
the entrance to the trail and are back to camp in time to pack 
what they wish to haul home with them, snug up the hunting 
lodge once more, and have a half hour to spare, which they 
devote to further improving their little garden. Then their 
horse is sent in for them and they are soon on their way home, 
where they arrive the next morning, tired a little and sleepy 
too, but well enough to saw wood. 
