The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-08-06

stlll longer head, sagely seeks for adult
counsel In yonder farmhouse. He is re-
| warded for his wisdom. The farmer is
| all alone IN the house. He is jolly
good fellow, and brings forth bottled
cider of two varieties. He himself pre-
fers the bottle labelled "hard," but the
guest takes very kindly to the softer
species. lie enjoys himself thus. while
his three thirsty, reek1ng, straining COM
pan1ons drag and push and lift and
paodle the two canoes up to the bridge.
men ne drives down in a hayrack, full
OF good nature and soft cider, and sweet
ly announces that this is not the Royal
river but tributary. called the Little
Royal. His host will drive them across
country in Is minutes to the main river
at Dunn's Crossing, which they left
hours ago, the Little Royal having
twisted and bent the intervening dis
tance into three or four times it's normal
length, paradox which only river can
accomplish. The three tired, thirsty etc.,
companions at first take refuge in I'M
belief. But the farmer is more convinc-
ng than the small boy (who has hung
around and there is nothing to do but
load the canoes on to the rack. They
are long time getting on their boots
and stockings, and force the farmer and
his guest to do the loading-a grim
satisfaction.
hS IL 4AluuU0S 0IlF0 Is SOluoWu Au
heightened, but they arrive at Dunn's
crossing between four and five O'Clock.
they take the left hand branch this time,
ana the Royal river proves more worthy
of it's name. But why it should prac-
tice the deceit of narrowing itself at the
Junction with the Little Royal is still
mystery.
1t continues a respectable river up
through the town of Gray. just below
old mill tharn aha How
rapids. but they get through all right
and carry around the dam just as the
loveliest, balmiest evening that ever was
is closing around them. The river,
broad and deep and quiet, invites them
onward among the billy farms of Gray.
For an hour, the best of the day, they
foat along in the caressing darkness,
with never mosquito to bother or trace
of damp or chill in the soft night air.
They come to foot bridge, near hay
barn, and he of the lengthy person
allties-head. legs and trousers-recog-
nizes the locality. He had visited in his
boyhood at a farmhouse up on the dis
tal;t hills somewhere. They needn't
camp under the canoes but will be well
come at said farmhouse, and if there
isn't room in the house there is plenty
in the barn.
They start away in the darkness in the
general direction of the distant hills.
There is no sign of house or glimmer
of light on the lofty horizon. The guide
strides onward silenly aud the rest fol-
low-but not silently. What tremendous
how hot the night! At last they get to
tn top, and to the left is a CLEAN of
lighJ They finally approach large
handsome farmhouse, and file into the
yard and cast down their paddles and
rubber coats with sigh of relief. The
thought of dog has no terrors; moth
ing could be worse than that climb up
from the river
There are lights up stairs. The family
are about to retire for the night. The
guide draws himself to his full height
takes a useless hitch in those trousers
of his, and knocks at the door, Silence.
Another knock. Then a feminine voice
says, who is it?"
In his most respectfully winning, and
persuasively legal tones, as if pleading
a case before a feminine jury las indeed
he ls) the guide explains that they have
come up the river in canoes, and could
they pass the night in the barn?
No, guess not. says the voice.
81 shouldn't expect you to admit
but | visited in the next house when I
was boy, and used to come over here
and eat your nodhead apples.a He men
tions CERTAIN names. ETC., and is remem-
bered, though possibly the mention of
nodhead apples is the key to remem-
brance.
"I'll come down." says another voice.
1t is a good voice to be sure, very at
tractive voice, but when the door opens
there appears in the blaze of light
we'll, there appears a surprise.
The guide takes another useless,
though frantic, hitch at those trousers.
The other three, out in the dark, be-
come conscious all at once of certain de-
fects in appearance, and mechanically
pull themselves together, and smooth
their towsled hair, unconscious that
they are not SO visible as she is, though
quite aware that they are not so worthy
of being seen.
The young lady is very gracious. They
might sleep on the hay and welcome.
She insists on getting them lantern
and pillows and blankets to spread on
the hay. They,might have come into the
house, but there is sickness which must
prevent. They turn in on the hay, very
thankful that they are not regarded by
that young lady as tramps or suspicious
characters.
Though both great doors are open and
the site is on top of hill, that barn is
an oven. 1t would have been better to
sleep out doors on the bare fields. But
the trouble with out doors is, and has
been for some time, that its roof looks