The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1909-04-17

aggerated manner I sometimes used
with her; and she dropped me cour-
tesy with the prettiest grace in the
world.
Il shall be with you in moment.
my lord!"
She reappeared quickly and re-
marked, as took her wraps, that
Helen. was very sorry not to come.
The gardener was on duty, and II
called lima to help with the launch.
Brightly decorated boats were already
visible in the direction Of Port AMMAN
dale; even the tireless lake "tramps"
whistled with special flourish and
were radiant in vari-colored lanterns.
"This is an ampler Venice, but there
should be music to make 1t complete"
observed Miss Pat. as we stole in and
out among the gathering fleet. And
then. as though in answer. a launch !
passed near. leaving trail Of muir
murous chords behind-the mournful
throb of the guitar. the resonant beat
of banjo strings. Nothing can be 80
soothing to the troubled spirit as music
over water. and watched with delight
Miss Pats deep absorption in all the
sights and sounds of the lake.
The assembling canoes flashed out
Of the dark like fireflies. Not even tho
spirits that tread the air come and 20
more magically than the canoe that is
welded by trained hand The touch
Of the skilled paddler becomes but
caress of the water. To have stolen
across Saranac by moonlight: to have
padded the devious course Of the
York or Kennehunk when the sea
steals inland for rest. or to dip up
stars in lovely Annandale--of such ex-
periences is knowledge born!
took care that we kept well to our
selves, for Miss Pat turned nervously
whenever a boat crept too near lima,
understanding without being told, held
the power we'll in hand. had scanned
the lake at shutdown for signs of the
Stiletto. but 1t had not ventured from
the lower lake all day, and there was
scarcely enough air stirring to rune
the water.
We can award the prize for our
selves here at the turn of the loop" !
remarked. rs we swung into place and
paused at a point about mile of
Glenarm. Here comes the hotilla!"
THE music is almost an imperti.
ence, lovely rs Il is. The real song
Of the canoe Is dip and glide, dip and
glide" said Miss Pat.
The loop once mace we now looked
upon a double line whose bright con-
fusion added to the picture. The ca
noe offers. when You think Of 1t. little
chance for the decorator. it's lines are
so trim and so founded upon rigid sim.
plictty: but many Jealous hands had
labored for the magic of this hour.
Slim masts supported lanterns in
many and charming combinations, and
suddenly, as though the toy lamps had
taken wing, rockets flung up their
stars and Roman candles their golden
showers at dozen points Of the line
and broadened the scope Of the pic
ture. A scow placed midway Of the
loop now lighted the lake with red and
green fire. The bright. graceful ar
gosies Slipped by. like beads upon
rosary. When the last canoe had
passed, Miss Pat turned to me, signing
softly:
1T was too pretty TO last: It was a
page out Of the book Of lost youth"
I laughed back at her and signaled
lima to go ahead and then, az the
water churned and foamed and took
the wheel, we were startled by an ex-
clamation from some one In a row.
boat near at hand The last OF the
peaceful armada had passed, but now
from the center Of the lake, rnobserved
and unheralded. stole a canoe fitted
with slim masts carried high from bow
to stern with delightful daring. The
lights were set in globes Of green and
gold. and high over all, it's support
quite invisible. shone golden star
that seemed to hover and follow ths
shadowy canoe.
We all watched the canoe intently:
and my eyes now fell upon the figure
Of the skipper Of this fairy craft, who
was set forth in clear relief against
the red fire beyond. The sole occupant
of the canoe was a girl-there was no
debating II; she flashed by within a
paddles length a US, and heard the
low bubble Of water under her blade.
She padded kneeling. Indian fashion,
and was lessening the breach between
herself and the last canoe or the or
derby line, which now swept on toward
the casino.
That's the prettiest one Of ALL"
began Miss Pat. then ceased abruptly.
She bent forward, half rising and
gazing intently at the canoe. What she
saw and what I saw was Helen Hol-
brook plying the paddle with practiced
stroke; and as she passed she glanced
aloft to make sure that her slender
mast of lights was mistaken: and then
she was gone. her star twinkling upon
ns bewilderingly. waited for Miss
Pat to speak, but she did not turn her
head until the canoe itself had van
ished and only its gliding star marked
1t from the starry sisterhood above.
An exclamation faltered on my lips.
IT, "a