The Brownsville daily herald. [volume] (Brownsville, Tex.) 1897-1910, 1909-04-24

fOAAS lCapyCdlSA anu lS-
marked, as 1 took her wraps, that
Helen was very sorry not to come.
The gardener was on duty, and
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 it complete, ;"
! observed Miss Pat, as we stole in and
( out among the gathering feet. And
then, as though in answer, a launch
passed near, leaving a trail of muir
! murous chords behind-the mournful
throb of the guitar, the resonant beat
I of banjo strings. Nothing can be so
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 f1ref1ies. Not even the
/ spirits that tread the air come and go
more magically than the canoe that is
welded by a 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 Kennebunk when the sea
steals inland for rest, or to dip up
stars in lovely Annandale-of such eX-
! perienees is knowledge born!
took care that we kept well to our
selves, for Miss Pat turned nerYously
whenever a boat crept too near. lima,
understanding without being told, held
the power well in hand. I had scanned
the lake at shutdown for signs of the
Stiletto, but it had not ventured from
the lower lake all day, and there was
scarcely enough air stirring to rufle
the water
we can award the prize for our
selves here at the turn of the loop"
remarked, as We swung into place and
paused at a point about a mile off
Glenarm. Here comes the fotilla: 4"
"The music is almost an imperti-
ence, lovely as It is The real song
of the canoe is dip and glide, dip and
glide" said Miss Pat.
The loop once MADE, We now looked
upon double line whose bright con
fusion added to the picture. The ca
noe offers, when you think of it, little
chance for the decorator, its lines are
so trim and so founded upon rigid sim
plicity; 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 bro%dened 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 a
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"
1 laughed back at her and signaled
lima to go ahead and then, as 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, unobserved
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, its support
quite invisible, shone a golden star
that seemed to hover and follow the
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 it; she flashed by within a
paddles length of us, and l heard the
low bubble of water under her blade
She padded kneelfng. Indian fashion,
and was lessening the breach between +
herself and the last canoe of 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 sc 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
US bewilderingly l waited for Miss
Pat to speak but she did not turn her
head until the canoe itself had van
ished and only its .liding star marked
It from the starry sisterhood above.
An exclamation altered on my lips.
1T vast was like-it was