A STATE OF MIND.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXI, Issue 8835, 15 July 1905, Page 1 (Supplement)

A STATE OF MIND.

(By Robert W. Chambers.)

The wind changed abruptly, blowing irom the south; and with the change B ? ,r - j £liis fancied that he smeiled green O JZ burning- A few minutes later he ' ,„„ 0 f it; he stood knee-deep in the Sam sniffing uneasily, then he lifted , Vutrod reeled in his line, and wa- ae d iflently shoreward, his keen nose tv,^.

tt sh' There it was—that mistj. i, luiEh Hoom' belting a clump of 1 acrid odor grew, impregn- >an „ the fil . tored forest air. He listened >% teSl \ess eyes searching- The noise of X stream filled ears; he tightened stra j, s of ilis pack, shortened his leaving line Jnd cast on, and cr AV fa£ up tae ravine, shoulder-deep in undergrowth, un-j til the dull cla? A flashing spray and fju tumult of ,{j ft f a n s were almost lost ig the leafy ' .reptbs behind. Banker, ca me the pungent odor 0 f smoke lilting to listen he heard the hissing '"yhisper of green wood afire; then, crawli'jj; U p over an enormous boulder, he s" >tr ~ just beyond and below, a man in vt'je&s, squatting on his haunches, and attfopting to toss a flapjack over 3 badly constructed campfire. Xhe two young men caught sight of one another at the same instant; alert, mistrustful, each starrd at the other in ques•ionirr' silence while the first instinct of unpleasant surprise lasted. '•••low are you?" said the man cautiously. •Good-morning." replied Ellis. "When

the wind turned I scented your fire down the stream. Thought I'd see what was

burning. "Are you up here, fishing? inquired he oi the tweeds. "Yes: came '.•ere by canoe to the forks below. I am, out for a week by myself. The Caranay water is my old-time trail. . looks like a storm, doesn't it?"

"Anvtliing doing with the trout?" "Xol much: two in the falls pool that coe? sn ounce short of the pound. I should be glad to divide—if you are shy oil trout.' Aeain they regarded one another careJdif. "\[v name," said the man by the fire, Hs .Jones—but that can't be helped now. go if you'll overlook such matters I'll be i-lad of a trout if you can spare one." e "Mv name is Ellis; help yourself." The man by the fire glanced at the tnrnt flapjack, scraped it free from the pan, tossed it into the bushes, and straightened to his full height. "Come into camp, Mr Ellis," he said politely. The freemasonry of caste operates very quickly in the wilderness; Ellis slid down the boulder on the reinforced seat of his knickerbockers, landing, hob-nailed shoes foremost, almost at the edge of the fire. Then he laid his rod aside, slipped the pack to the ground, nnslung his creel, and, fishing out 3 handkerchief, mopped his rather attractively sunburnt countenance. a Anvtliins else you're short of, Mr Jones?" he "asked pleasantly. "I'm jnst in from tho settlements, and I. can let you have a -pinch of almost anything." "Have you plenty of salt?" inquired Jorfts wistfully. "Plenty; isn't there anything else? Baffin? Sugar?"

'■Matches?" Ellis looked at hiui keenly; good woodsmen don't run short of matches; good (roodsmen don't build such fires. 'Certainly," he said. "Did you have an accident 1" "Xo—that- is, several boxes got wet, and Ire been obliged to sit- around this confounded fire for fear it might- go out — didn't dare fish very far from it." He looked gloomily around, rubbed his forehead as though trying to recollect sraiethinc. and finally sat- down on a log. Tact is." he said, "I don't know very uracil about the woods. Do you? Everything's gone wrong; I tore my canoe in the "Ledge Rapids yesterday. I'm in a

fix." Ellis touched; and his laugh was so pleasant, so' entirely without offence, that yonng Jones laughed, too, for a while, then "checked himself to ad it's' his eyeelasws, which his mirth had displaced. "'•Can vou cook?" he asked, so seriously that Ellis only nodded, still laughing. '•Then, for' Heaven's sake, wo=:M you, when you cook your own breakfast over that fire, cook enough for two?" u "Whv. man, I believe you're hungry," said Ellis sharplv. '•Hungry? Well. I don't know whether yon would call it exactly hunger, because I have eaten several things which I cookel. I ought not to be hungry; I tried in toss a flapjack, but it got- stuck to the fan. Fact is. I'm a rotten cook, and I guess it's simplv that I'm half starved for a decent meal." ■uTiv. see here." said Ellis, rising to is feet. 'T can fix up something pretty cm'ck if von like." "I do like. Yonder is my cornmeal, coffee, some damp sugar, flour, and what's left of the pork, over there —you see I left it in a corner of the lean-to, and rtile I was asleep a porcupine got busy trith it: then I hung it- on a tree, and some porcupines invited their relatives, and thev all" climbed up and nearly finisherf it. Did yon suppose that a porcupine co'ild climb a tree?"

"I've heard so." said Ellis gravely, busy TOh the stores which he was unrolling from lu's own blanket. The guilelessness o: this stray woodland brother appalled tra. Here was a babe in the woods. A n-:w sort of babe, too, for, in the experience of Kllis. the incompetent woodsman is ever the loudest-mouthed, the tyro the most conceited. But this forest-squatting i--ir.ncc.nt not nnlv knew nothing of the elements of woodcraft, but had called a stranger's attention to his ignorance with a simplicity that silenced mirth, forestalled contempt, and aroused a curious respect for the unfortunate. 'He is no liar, anyway." thought Ellis, placing a back-lon. mending the fire, emptying the coffee-pot. and setting the settle to boil. And while he went about lis cnlinarv matters with a method born if habit. Jones watched him, aided when he saw a chance: and they chatted on Host animatedly together as the preparation? for breakfast advanced. "The verv first dav I arrived in the fronds." said Junes, 'T fell into the stream wid cot most of my matches wet. I've had a devil of a time since." "It's a good idea to keep reserve matches in a water-tight glass bottle." observed Kliis carelessly, and without appearing to instruct anybody about anything "

•Til remember that. What is a_ good way to keep pork from porcupines?" Ellis mentioned several popular methods. ■ I sirred the batter, shoved a hot plate r-en.rer the ashes, and presently began the aannfe.i'ture of flapjacks. "Don't you toss 'em?'' inquired Jones, *at?hing "he process intently. . "ri-i. they can be tossed—like this! _ "But '■ is easier for me to turn them with a kite—like this. I have an idea that they tos-s fbpjacks less often in the woods than '-lev do jr. novels." "I gathered mv idea from a book," said •J'ines bitterly; "it was called Back to the «oods. and told all about dicky-birds and how to build a fire without- matches. Some csy I sh S n destroy the author." Presently Jones"went on in a low, intense voire: "Oh. the fragrance of that enfr.-.r. anri bacon'." Which was all he »i'l. kit its significance was patheiically nnntistakablc.

"fitch in. man." urged Ellis, looking I b-k r.ver his shoulder. "I'll be with yon in a second." But when his tower ot browned and smoking flapjacks was ready, sr.d lie come over to the log. he found •hat Lis host, being his host, had waited. That settled his convictions concerning Jones: and that was doubtless why, inside of half an hour, he found himself filling him Jones and not Mr Jones, and •lon-s calling him Ellis. They were a pair o; v.-ii knit, clean-limbed young men. throat and face burnt deeply by wind and s::n. Jones did not have much hair; Ellis" was thick and short, and wavy at tne tc-ir.plcs. Thev were agreeable to look at.

another batch of flapjacks?" inquired Ellis persuasively. Jones groaned with satisfaction at the Pt'ispect, and applied himself to a crisp trout garnished with bacon.

'"l've tried and tried," he said, "but 1 cannot catch anv trout. When I found that I could not I was horrified, Ellis, became, yoa see, I had supposed that the

forest and me with subsistence. Oh, Lord! Nature hasn't dr, ne a thing to me since I've tried to_ hands with her." . "I wonder," said Ellis, "why you came m '°« the woods alone?" Jones coyly pounced upon another flapjack, folded it neatly and inserted one end of it into his mouth. This he chewed reflectively; and when it had vanished according to Fletcher, he said : "If I tell you why I came here I'll begin to get angry. This breakfast is too heavenly to spoil. Pass the bacon and help yourself." Ellis, however, had already satisfied his hunger. He set the kettle on the coals again, dumped into it cup and plate and fork, wiped his sheath-knife carefully, and, curling up at the foot of a hemlock, lighted his pipe, returning the flaming branch to the back-log. Jones munched on; smile after smile ' spread placidly over his youthful face, dislodging hia eyeglasses every time. He resumed them, and ate flapjacks. "The first time my canoe upset," he said, "I lost my book of artificial flies. I brought a box of angle-worms with me, too, but they fell into the stream the second time I upset. So I have been trying to snare one of those big trout under the ledge below " Ellis' horrified glance cut him short; he shrugged his shoulders. "My friend, I know it's dead low-down, but it was a matter of pure hunger with me. At all events, it's just as well that I caught nothing; I couldn't have cooked it if I had." He sighed, looked at the last flapjack, decided he did not require it, and settling down with his back against the log blissfully lighted his pipe. For ten minutes they smoked without speaking, dreamily gazing at the blue sky through the trees. Friendly little forest birds came dropping from a twig to branch; two chipmunks crept into the case of eggs to fill their pouched chops with the oats that the eggs were packed in. The young men watched them lazily. "The simpler life is the true existence," commented Ellis, drawing a long, deep breath.

"What the devil is the simpler life?" demanded Jones with so much energy that the chipmunks raced away in mad abandon, and the flock of black-capped birds scattered to neighboring branches, remarking in unison, "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee." "Why, you're leading the simpler life now." said" Ellis, laughing, "are you not ?" "Am I? No, Tm not. I'm not leading a simple life; Tm leading a pace-killing, nerve-racking, complex one. I tell you, Ellis, that it has taken just one week in the woods to reveal to me the eomplexity of simplicity!" "Oh, you don't like the life?" "I like it all right, but it's too complex. Listen to me. You asked me why anybody ever let me escape all alone by myself "into the woods. I'll tell you. . . . You're a New Yorker, are you not?" Ellis nodded.

"All right. First look on this picture. I live in the sixties, near enough to the Park to see it. It's a green, and I like it. Besides, there are geraniums and other posies in my back yard, and I can see them when the laundress isn't too busy with the clothesline. So much for the mise en scene: me in a twenty-by-one-hun-dred house, perfectly contented; Park a stone's toss west, back yard a few feet north. My habits? Simple enough to draw tears from a lambkin! I breakfast at nine—an egg, fruit, coffee, and the Sun. At eleven I go downtown to see if there's anything doing. There never is, so I smoke one cigar with my partner and then we lunch together. I then walk uptownwalk, mind you. At the club I look at the ticker, or out of the window. Later I play cowboy or billiards for an hour. I take one cocktail —one, if you please. I converse." He waved his pipe; Ellis nodded solemnly. "Then," continued Jones, "what do I do?"

"I don't know," replied Ellis. 'Til tell you. I call a cab —one cab, or one hansom, as the state of the weather may suggest—l drive through the Park, pleasantly aware of the verdure, the squirrels and the babies; I arrive at my home: I mount to the library and there I select from my limited collection some accursed hook I've always heard of but have never read—not fiction, but something stupefying and worth while. This I read for exactly one hour. I then dress; and if I'm dining out, out I go—if not, I dine at home. Twice a week I attend the theatre, but I neutralise that by doing penance at the opera every Monday during the season. . . There, Ellis, is the" story of a simple life! Look on that picture. Now look on this: Me in the backwoods, fly-bitten, smokechoked, a half-charred flapjack in my fist, a porcupine-gnawed rind of pork on a stick, attempting to broil the same at a fire, the smoke of which blinds me. Me, again, belly down, peering hungrily over the bank of a stream, attempting to snatch a trout- with a bare hook, my glasses slipping off repeatedly, the spectre of starvation scourging me on. Me, once more, frantic with indigestion and mosquitoes, lurking under a "blanket, the root of a tree bruising my backbone; me in the morning, done up, shaving in icy water and cutting my chin; me, half-shaved, searching for a scrap of nourishment, "auntly prowling among cold and greasy fry-pans! Ellis! Which is the simpler life, in Heaven's ,name?"

Ellis' laughter was the laughter of a woodsman, full, infectious, but almost noiseless. The birds came back and teetered on adjacent twigs, cheeping in , friendly unison: a chipmunk, chops distended, popped up from the case of eggs like a striped jack-in-a-box, not at all afraid of a man who laughed that way. "How did you ever come into the woods?" he asked at length. "That's a dark story," said Jones, refilling his pipe. "Shall I relate it?" "By all means," urged Ellis, tired with laughing too much after breakfast. "All right. Of course, for some time I've been reading books by the authors who discovered Nature. Then I read all about the simpler mode of living—the papers rang the changes on it. First came the Nature books: I learned to tell a woodcock from a peacock: how to dig holes in the ground and raise little pea vines, and how to make two blades of grass grow where the laundress had set a devastating shoe. Then I tired of it: but when half the decent people in town bocan to move back to the woods to study 'the habits of the speckled tomtit I saw that, there was something doing of which I had no conception—Palm Beach, Bar Harbor and Lenox being my rural limits. Around me swelled the "archaic chorus, 'A-hunting we will go !* But I side-stepped all such bids. Besides, as I have a perfect hatred of taking life, I had no temptation to shoot guides in Maine or niggers in South Carolina, where the o,uail come from. Still, I was awake to the new idea. I read more books on dicky-birds and woodchucks; I emelled every flower I saw; I tried to keep up," he said earnestly; "by Heaven. I did my best ! And now, look at me ! Nature hands me the frozen i mitt!" , , . i Ellis could only laugh, cradling his knees in his clasped and sun-tanned hands. . , T. , j "I am fond of Nature m the Pars, and I admire the geraniums in my back yard, continued Jones excitedly. "I like a simple life, too: but I don't wish to pursue a live thins and eat it- for my dinner. The idea is perfectlv obnoxious to me. I like flowers on a table or in the Park, but I don't want to know their names, or the names-of the creatures that buzz and crawl over them, or the names of the that feed on the buzzv things! I don't; I know I don't, and I won't! Nature has stung me; from this week I shall preach, not the simpler life, but the simplest life. I shall knock Nature hereafter. Tins is all for mine. I'll look up and leave the kev of the fields to the next come-on lured into the cood green goods by that most accomplished steerer, Nature. I've got my gilt-brick, Ellis—l'm going home. "But, my dear fellow " "No, vou don't. You're an accomplice of this Nature dame; I can tell by the i wav vou cook and catch trout and keep your matches in bottles. One large ana brilliant brick is enough for one Newport man. The asphalt for mine—and a lurkish bath." _„. Aiter a grinnintr silence, Ellis arose, stretched, tapped bis pipe against a treetrunk, and sauntered over to where his rod lay." "Come on; Til guarantee you a ■1 trout in the first reach," he sari affablj,

slipping ferrule into socket, disentangling the cast and setting the line free. So they strolled off toward the long amber reach which lay a few yards below the camp, Jones explaining that he didn't wish to take life from anything except a mosquito.

"We've got to eat; we'd better stock up J while we can, because it's going to rain," observed Ellis. "Going to rain? How do you know?" "The wind; I smell it. Besides, look there—yonder above the mountains. Do you see the sky behind the Golden Dome?" Up the narrow valley, over the unbroken sweep of treetops, arose tumbled peaks ; and above the Golden Dome, pushing straight upward into the flawless blue of heaven, towered a cloud, its inky convolutions edged with silver. Jones inspected the thunderhead with disapproval; Ellis offered bis rod, and, being refused, began some clever casting, the artistic beauty of which was doubtless lost on Jones.

One trout only investigated the red-and-white fly; and, that fish safely creeled, El lis turned to his companion: "Three years ago, when I last came here, this reach was more prolific. But there's a pool above that I'll warrant. Shall we move?"

As they passed on upstream Jones said : "There's no pool above, only a rapid." "You're in error," said Ellis confidently. "I've known every pool on the' Caranay for years." "But there is no pool above —unless you mea to trespass." "Trespass!'' repeated Ellis, aghast. "Trespass in the free Caranay forests! You —you don't mean to say that any preserve has been established on the Caranay! I haven't been here for three years. . . . Do you?" "Look here," said Jones, pointing to r. high fence of netted wire which rose abov;: the undergrowth and cut the banks of tke stream in two with a barrier eight feet high; "that's what stopped me. There's their home-designed trespass notice hanging to the fence. Eead it; it's worth perusal."

Speechless, but still incredulous, Eliis strode to the barrier and looked up. And this is what he read printed in mincing "Art Nouveau" type upon a swinging zinc sign fashioned to imitate something or other which was no doubt very precious :

Otez ! Ye simple livers of ye simpler life have raised thys barrier against ye World, ye Flesh and

ye Devyl. Turn back in Peace and leave us to our Nunnery. Ye Maids and Dames of Vassar. "What the devil is that nonsense?" demanded Ellis hoarsely. "Explained on our next tree," remarked Jones, wiping hia eyeglasses indifferently. An ordinary trespass notire printed or white linen was nailed to the flank of r. great pine; and, below this, a special warning, done in red on a white board :

Notice ! This property belongs to the Vassar College Summer School. Fishing, shooting, trapping, the felling of trees, the picking of wild flowers, and every form of trespass, being strictly "forbidden, all violators of this ordinance under the law will he prosecuted. One hundred dollars reward is offered for evidence leading to the detection and conviction of any trespasser upon this property. The Directors of the Vassar Sum- t mer School. "Well?" inquired Jones, as Ellis stood motionless, staring at the sign. The latter slowly turned an enraged visage toward his companion. '■' What are you going to do?" repeated Jones curiously. "Do? I'm going to fish the Caranay. Come on."

"Trespass on Vassar?" asked Jones. "I'm going to fish the Caranay, my old j and favorite and beloved stream," retorted Ellis doggedly. "Do you suppose a squatty zinc sign in this forest can do anything more than shock my sense of the ' eternal fitness of things? Come on, Jones. ■ I'll show you a trout worth tossing this Caranay Belle to." And he looped on a silver-and-salmon-tinted fly and waded out < into the rapids. j Jones lighted his pipe and followed him, giving his views of several matters in a ' voice "pitched above' the whispering rush of j the ripples: ; "That's all very well, Ellis, but suppose we are pinched and fined ? A nice place, these forests, for a simple liver to lead ■ a simple life in. Simple life! What? : And some of these writers define the 1 'simple life' as merely a 'state of mind.' That's right, too: I was in a state of mind ' until I met you, let- me tell you! They're - perfectly correct: it- is a state of mind. He muttered to himself, casting an anxious eve on the thundercloud which stretched 'almost to the zenith over the ' Golden Dome and shadowed Lynx Peak like a pall. "Bain, too," he commented, wading m Ellis' wake. "There's a most- devilish look about that cloud. I wish I were a wood- ' chuck —or a shiner, or an earnest young thing from Vassar. What are we to do if pinched with the goods on us, Ellis? The other laughed a disagreeable laugh and splashed forward. "Because," continued Jones, wiping the ■ spray from his glasses, "the woods yonder may be teeming with these same young things from Vassar. Old 'uns, too—there s a faculty for that Summer School. "You can never tell what a member of a ladies Summer School faculty would do to you. I dare sav they might run after and bite you—out here in the backwoods. "Do you know anvthing about this absurd matter?" asked Ellis, halting to wait for his companion. . n "Only what the newspapers print. "And what's that? I've not noticed anything about it." , "Why they all tell about the scope ot the Vassar Summer School. It's founded' —and he grinned maliciously— on tile simple life." "How?" snapped Ellis, clambering up out of the water to the flat, sandy shore of an exquisite pool some forty rods in in length. _ , "Why, this way: The "Vassar undergraduates, who formerly, after commencement, scattered into all the complexities of a silly, unprofitable, good old summertime, now have a chance to acquire simplicity and a taste for the rudimentary pleasures and pursuits they have overlooked in their gallop after the complex." , , , Ellis sullenly freed his line and glanced up at the clouds. It was already raining on the Golden Dome. "So" continued Jones, "the Summer School took to the woods along with the rest of the simple-minded. I hear they ha-e a library; doubtless it contains the Kollo boohs. * They have courses in theearlier and simpler langnagcs-ihe dead ■ uns _Sanskrit, Greek. Latin; Kr-riish, too, before it grew pin-feathers. Ley have a bandstand built of logs out yonder where the mosquito hummeth : and some trees and a pond which they call a theatre devoted to the portrayal of the great primitive and simple passions and emotions. Tliev have also dammed up the stream to make a real lake when they give tankdramas like Lohengrin and the Rhemgold; and the papers say they have a pair ot live swans hitched to r boat—that is, a yellow reporter swears they have, but he was discovered taking snapshots at some Rhine-wine daughters, and hustled out of th He V paused~to watch Ellis hook and play and presently land a splendid trout weighin" close to two pounds. ""It's an outrage, nn infernal outrage, for such people to dtvn the Caranay and invade this God-given forest with their unspeakable tin signs!" said Ellis, casting ""But they're only looking for a srmp.-cr life —just like you." Ellis said something. _ "That," replied Jones, "is a simple and ancient word' expressing tersely one of the simplest and most primitive passions—an"er. Yon know, the simple life is merely a 'state of mind'; you're acquiring it; I recognise the symptoms." Ellis made another observation, more or less mandatory. "Yes, that is a locality purely mythical, according to our later exponents of the- ■ ology; therefore I cannot accept the sug- ; gestion to go there " i "Confound it 3" exclaimed Ellis, laugh- , ing, as he landed a tront, "let up on"

v:>ur joking. I'm mad all through, and it's beginning to rain. When that thunder comes nearer it will end the fishing, too. Look at Lynx Peak! Did you see that play of lightning ? There' 6 a corker of a storm brewing. I hope," he added savagely, "it will carry away their confounded dam and their ridiculous lake. The nerve of women to dam a trout stream like the Caranay What was that you said?" "I said," hissed Jones in a weird whisper, "that there are two girls standing behind us and taking our pictures with a kodak ! Don't look around, man! They'll snap-sboot us for evidence!" But the cautious soul was too late; Ellis had turned. There came a click of a kodak shutter; Jones turned in spite of himself; another click sounded. j

"Stung!" breathed Jones as two young girls stepped from the shelter of a juniper brush and calmly confronted the astonished trespassers. "I am very sorry to trouble you," said the taller one severely, "but this is private property." Ellis took off his cap; Jones did the same.

"I saw your signs," said Ellis pleasantly. Jones whispered to him: "The taller one is a corker!" and Ellis replied under his breath : "The other is attractive, too." "You admit that you deliberately trespassed?" inquired the shorter girl very gravely. "Not upon you —only upon what you call your property," said Ellis gayly. "Y 7 ou see, we really need the trout in our business —which is to keep soul and body on friendly terms." No answering smile touched the pretty gray eyes fixed on his. She said gravely : "I am very sorry that this has happened." "We're sorry, too," smiled Jones, "although we can scarcely regret the charming accident which permits us—■ —" But it wouldn't do; the taller girl stared at him coldly from a pair of ornamental brown eyes.

Presently she said: "We students arc supposed to report- cases like this. If you have deliberately choeen to test the law governing the protection of private property no doubt- our Summer School authorities will be willing to gratify you before a proper tribunal. . . . May I ask your names?" She drew a notebook from the pocket of her kilted skirt, standing gracefully with pencil poised, dark eyes focused upon Jones. And, as she waited, the thunder boomed behind the Golden Dome.

"It's going to rain cats and dogs," said Jones anxiously, "and you haven't an umbrella "

The dark-eyed girl gazed at him scornfully. "Do you refuse your name?" "Xo—oh, not at all!" said Jones hastily; "my name is Jones -"

The scorn deepened. "And —is this Mr Smith?" she inquired, looking at Ellis. "My name is Jones," said Jones so earnestly that his glasses fell off. "And what's worse, it's John Jones."

Something in his eye engaged her attention —perhaps the unwinking innocence of it. She wrote "John Jones" on her pad, noted his town address, and turned to Elis, who was looking fixedly, but not offensively, at the girl with the expressive gray eves.

* "If you also have a pad I'll surrender to yon," he said pleasantly. "There is glory enough for all here, as our admiral remarked."

The gray eyes glimmered; a quiver touched the scarlet mouth. But a crash of nearer thunder whitened the smile on her lips. "Helen, I'm going!" she said hastily to her of the brown eyes.

"That storm," said Ellis calmly, "has a long way to travel before it strikes the Caranay valley." He pointed with his rod, tracing in the sky the route of the crowding clouds. "Every storm that hatches behind the Golden Dome swings south along the Clack Water first, then curves and comes around by the west and sweeps the Caranay. You have plenty of time to take my name."

"But —but the play? I was thinking of the play.,'' she said,, looking anxiously at tl-.e brown eyes, which were raised to the sky in silent misgiving." '"lf you don't mind my saying so," said Ellis, "there is ample time for your outdoor'theatricals —if you mean that. You need not look for that storm on the upper Oaranay before late this afternoon. Even then it may break in the mountains and you ,mav see no rain—only a flood in the river." "Do you really think so?" she asked. "I do. T can almost answer for it. Y"n see. the CKranav jms been • my" haunt for many vc~r?. r- 1 - 1 T know almost to a certainty what is likely to happen here." "That, is jolly !" she exclaimed, greatly relieved. '-Helen, I really think we should be starting- " But Helen, pencil poised, gazed obdurately at Kllis out of brown eyes which were scarcely fashioned for such impartial and inexorable work. "If your name is not Smith I should be very el ad to note it." she said sweetly. So he laughed and told her who he was and where he lived: and she wrote it down, somewhat shakily. "Of course," she said, "you cannot be the artist—James Lowell Ellis, the artist —the great " She hesitated: brown eyes and gray eyes, very wide now, were concentrated on him. Jones, too, started, and Ellis laughed. "Are you?" blurted out Jones. "Great Heaven! I never supposed " Ellis joined in a quartet of silence, then lauo-hed again, a short, embarrassed laugh. "You don't'look like anything famous, you know," said Jones reproachfully. "Why didn't you tell me who Why, man, I own two your pictures!' To brown-eves, known so far as "Helen," Ellis said • "We painters are a bad lot, you see—but don't let that prejudice you against Mr. Jones; he really doesnt know me v»ry well. Besides, I dragged him into this villainy; didn't I, Jones ? ; You didn't want to trespass, you know. "Oh, come!" said Jones; "I own two ot vonr pictures—the Amourette and the Corrida, That ought to convict me of almost an Gray-fyes said : "We—my father-has the Espagnotita, Mr. Ellis." She blushed when she finished. "Why then, you tnust be Miss Sandys ! said Ellis quickly-,, " Mt Kenneth Sandys owns that picture." , The brown eves, which had widened, then sparkled, then softened as matters developed, now became uncompnsmg beauttU «I am dreadfully sorry," she said, looking at her notebook. "I trust that the school authorities may not. press matteTS. Then she raised her eyes to see what Jones expression might resemble. It resembled absolutely nothing. A.fter a silence, Miss Sandys said l>o you thinik, ou"t to report this " "Yes. Molly, I do." , "I'm onlv an architect: fine me, but | spare mv friend, Ellis," said Jones, fao tro : playfully to placate the brown-eyed Helen. She returned his glance with a scrutiny devoid of expression. The thunder boomed alonsr the flanks of Lynx Peak." "We—we aTe veTy soTry,' whispered Miss Sandvs. "I am too," Teplied Ellis—not meaning anyt-liing concerning his legal predicament. Brown eyes looked at Jones ; there was a little inclination of her pretty head as she passed them. A moment later tne two youno- men stood alone, caps in hand, ■ gaing fixedly into the gathering dimness of Caranav forest. "Ellis,"" said Jones earnestly, as they climbed to the camp and stood' gaing at the whitening ashes of their fire, "the simple life is a stae of mind. I'm in it now. And—do you know, Ellis, that—l—l could learn to like it?" Ellis produced the back-log, and tossed on some dry sticks. "Great Heaven!" breathed Jones, did you ever see such eyes, Ellis?" " "The gray one? They're very notice"l meant—well, let it go at that. There be two of us have lost a thousand shilling to-day." . "And: the ladies not m buckram, rejoined Ellis, starting a blaze. "Jones, can you prepare trout for the pan with the aid of a knife? Here, Tub salt in 'em—and leave all but two in that big tin—dry, mind, then cover it, and sink it in the spring, or something furry will come nose- . ing and claying at it. I'll have things ready by the tame you're back." "About our canoes," began Jones, "I've [ daubed! rniriA with, white lead, but I cut

I it up badly. Hadn't we attend? to • them before the .storm breaks?" "Get yours into camp. I'll fetch mine; ! cached up just below the forks. ihis ■ storm may tear things." A quarter of an hour later two vigorous vouao- men swung into camp, lowered the canoes from their heads and shouldeTS, carried the strapped kits, poles and paddles into the lean-to, and turned the light craft bottom-up as flanking shelters to headq ".No use fishing; that thunder is spoilinn- the CaTanay," muttered Ellis, moving about and setting the camp in order. "This is a fine lean-to," he added; 'its big enough for a regiment." „ ~ "I told you I was an architect, said Jones, surveying the open-faced shanty with pride. "I had nothing else to do so I spent the time in making this. lin a corker on the classic. Shall I take an axe and cut some wood in the lonic or Done style?" Ellis, squatting among the provisions, busily bringing order out of chaos, told him what sort of wood to cut; and an hour later, when the echoing thwacks of the axe ceased and Jones came in loaded witn firewood, tho camp was in order; hambones, stale- bedding, tin-cans, the heac.s and spinal processes of trout had been removed, dishes polished, towels washed and diying, a pleasant aroma of balsam tips mingled with the spicy scent of the lire. "Whew!" said Jones, sniffing; "it smells pleasant now." "The camp," observed Ellis, 'had all the fragrance of a thunder! There's the deuce ' to pay on the upper waters of the Caranay by this time." . ( "Do you think we'll get it?' "Not the Tain and wind: the electrical storms usually swing off, following the Big Oswaya. But we may have a flood.' He arose and picked up his Tod. "The thunder has probably blanked me, but if you 11 tend camp I'll try to pick up some fish in a binnikill I know of where the trout archabituated to the Toar of the fork falls. We may need every fish we can get if the flood proves a bad one." Jones said it would suit him perfectly to sit still. He curled up close enough to the fire for comfort as well as assthetic pleasure, removed his eyeglasses, fished out a iiask of aromatic mosquito ointment, and solemnly began a facial toilet, in the_ manner of a comfortable house cat anointing her countenance with one paw. "Ellis," he said, blinking up at that young man very amiably, "it would be agreeable to see a little more of—of —Miss Sandys; wouldn't it? And the other " "We could easily do that." "Eh? How?" "By engaging an attorney to engage ourselves in court," said Ellis grimly. "Pooh! You don't suppose that DTowneyed girl " "Yes, I do! She means mischief. If it had rested with the other " "You're mistaken," said Jones waraily. "I am perfectly persuaded that if I had had half an hour's playful conversation with the brown-eyed one " "You tried playfulness and fell down," observed Ellis coldly. "If I could have spoken to Miss Sandys " "Wliat! A girl with steol gray eyes like two poniards ? • A lot of mercy she would show us! My dear fellow, trust in the brown eye every time! The warm, humane, brown eye—tho emotional, the meltin sr, the tender brown " "Don't trust it! Didn't she kodak twice? You and I are now in her Rogues' Gallery. Besides, didn't she take notes on her pad? I never observed anything humane in brown eyes." Jones polished his nose with the mosquito salve. "How do you know what she wanted my picture for?" he asked, annoyed. "Perhaps she means to keep it for herself—if that irray-eyed one lets her alone " "Let the grey-eyed one alone yourself," retorted Ellis warmly. "You'd better, too. Any expert in human character can tell you which of those girls means mischief." "If you think you're an expert -" began Ellis, irritated, then stopped short. Jones followed his eyes.

"Look at that stream," said Ellis, dropping his rod against the lean-to. "There's been a- cloudburst in the mountains. There's no rain here, but look at that stream ! Yellow and bank-full! Hark ! Hear the falls. I have an idea the woods will be awash below us in an hour."

They descended to the ledge which an hour ago had overhung the stream. Now the water was level with it, lapping over it, rising perceptibly' in the few seconds they stood there. Alders and willows along the banks, almost covrred, staggered in the discolored water; drift of nil sorts came tumbling past, rotten branches, piles of brush ailoat, ferns and shrubs uprooted ; the torrent was thick with flakes of bark and forest mould and green-leaved twigs torn from tho stream-side.

From the lower reaches a deer came galloping toward the ridges; a fox stole furtively into the open, hesitated, and slunk off up the valley.

And now the shallow gorge began to roar under the rising flood: tumbling castles of piled-up foam whirled into view : the amber waves washed through the fringing beech growth, slopping into hollows, setting the dead leaves afloat. A sucking sound filled the woods: millions of tiny bubbles purred in the shallow overflow; here and there dead branches stirred, swung and floated. "Our camp is going to be an island pretty soon," observed Ellis; "just look at—-"

But Jones caught him by the arm. "What is that?" he demanded shakily. "Are there things like that- in these woods?" .

At the same instant Ellis caught sight of something in midstream bearing down on them in"a smother of foam—an enormous lizardlikc creature floundering throatdeep in the flood. "What is it, Ellis? Look! It's got a tail ten feet long! Great Heaven, look at it!"

"I see it," said Ellis hoarsely. "I never saw such a thing " "It's opening its iaws!" gasped Jones. "Great Heaven! Ellis, don't stay here

But Ellis, a trine white around the j cheekbones, stared in frozen silence at the fearsome creature as it swept down on them. A crested wave rolled it over; four papier-inache claws waved in the air; then the creature righted itself and swung in toward the bank. "Upon my word !" stammered Ellis ; it s part of their theatrical property. Lord! how real it looked out yonder. I knew it couldn't be. alive, but —Jones, see how my hands are shaking. Would you believe a man could be rattled like that?" "Believe it? I should say I could ! Look at the thing wabbling there in the shallows as though it were trying to move, its nippers! Look at it, Ellis; how it j seems to wriggle and paddle " _ The words froze on his lips: the immense creature was moving; the scaled claws churned the shallows; a. spasm shook the head: the jaws gaped. _ "Help !"' said a very sweet and frightened voice. , Ellis got hold of one claw. Jones the other, almost before they comprehended—certainly before, deep in the scaly creature's maw, they discovered the frightened but lovely features of the gray-eyed grrl who had snapshot, them. "Please pull," she said; "I cant swim in this!" , , ' Almost hysterically they soothed her as they tugged and steered the thing into the flooded forest.

"Mr Ellis—please —please don't pull auite so hard," she called out. "Oh, did I hurt you!" he cried bo tentatively that, even in the shock of emotion, Jones was ashamed of him. "■No you don't hurt me, Mr Ellis; lm all right inside here, but I—l—you must not pull this dragon to pieces "What do I care for the dTagon if you are in danger!" cried Ellis excitedly. But it -was a frightened and vexed voice that answered almost tearfully "If you pull too hard on the papier-mache legs something dreadful may happen. I—this dragon is—is about the only clothing I have on!" . . j ~ Ellis dropped the flipper, seized it again, and gazed into the scared eyes of Jones. "Eot Heaven's sake, go easy," he hissed, "or the thing will come apart!" Jones, in a cold perspiration, stood kneedeep in the flood, not daring to touch the flipper again. "Tou help here," he whispeied noaTsely. j "If she stands tip, now, you cam support I her to camp, can't you?"

Ellis bent over and looked into the gaping jaws of Fufnir the Dragon. • '•Miss Sandys," he said seriously, "do you think you could get;on your hind—on your feet?"" , , , The hindlegs of the monster splashed, groping for the bottom; Ellis passed his arm around the scaly body; Fafnir arose, rather wobbly, and took one dripping step forward. , t "I fancy wo can manage it now, Jones,' said Ellis cheerfully, turning around; but Jones did not answer; he was running away, dashing and splashing down the flooded forest. Beyond, rocking wildly in a gilded boat, sat two people and a placid swan. I

"Good Lord!" faltered Ellis, as the dragon turned with t, little shriek. "Is the whole Summer School being washed away !" "No," she said excitedly, "but the dam broke. Helen and Professor Rawson tried to save the swan-lwat —we were giving tableaus from Lohengrin and Das Kheingold —and—oh ! oh! oh! such a torrent came! Helen —there she is in armor—Helen tried to paddle the boat, but the swans pulled the other way and they flapped so wildly that Helen called for help.' Then one of the Rhine-maidens—Professor Kawson—waded in and got aboard, but the paddle broke and they were adrift. Then one of those horrid swans got loose, and everybody screamed, and the water rose higln r and higher, and nobody helped anybody, so, so—as I swim well, I jumped in without waiting to undress—you see I ha 1 been acting the dragon, Fafnir, and I went in just as I was: but the papier-macho dragon kept turning turtle with me, and first I knew I was being spun around like a top." There was a silence; they stood watching Jones scrambling after the swan-boat, which bad come to grief in shallow water. Professor Rawson, the Rhine-maiden, gave one raucous and perfunctory shriek—propudor ! —as Jones floundered alongside, for the garb of the normal Rhine-daughter is scanty, and Professor Rawson's costume, as well as her maidenly physique, was almost anything except redundant. As for Helen, sometimes known _ a.-i brown-eves, slie rose to her slim height, all differing i:i tin armor, and gave Jones a look of heavenly gratitude that shot hmi through and through his Norfolk jacket. "Don't look!'' said Professor Rawson, m a voice which, between the emotion of recent terror and present baslifulness, had dwindled to a squeak. "Don't look; I',n going to jump." And jump she did, taking to the water with a trifle less grace than tho ordinary Rhine-maiden. There was a spattering splash, a smoththered squawk, and the next moment ted by the swan, and the next moment Professor Rawson was churning toward dry land, her wreath of artificinl seaweed over one eye, her spectacles glittering amid her dank tresses. Jones looked up at brown-eyes balancing in the bow of tho painted boat. "I can get you ashore quite dry—if you don't mind," be said. She considered the water; she considered Jones : she looked carefully at the wallowing Rhine-daughter. "Are vou sure you can?" she asked. "Perfectly certa'in," breathed Jones. "I am rather heavy——" The infatuated man laughed. "Well. then. I'll carry the swan," she said calnilv; and. seizing that dignified and astonished bird, she walked demurely off the prow of the gaudy boat into the arms of Jones. To Ellis and the gray-eyed dragon, and to Professor Rawson, who bad crawled to a drv spot on the ridge, there was a dreadful fascination in watching that swaying pyramid of Jones, Lohengrin and swan tottering landward, knee-deep through the flood. The pvramid swayed dangerously at times: but the -in in the tin armor clasped Jo.ies around the neck and clung to the off lea- of the swan, and Jones staggered on. half-strangled by the arm and buffeted by the flapping bird, until his oozing shoes struck dry land. "Hurrah!" cried Ellis, his enthusiasm breaking out after an agonising moment of suspense: and Miss Sandys, forgetting her plight, waved her lizard claws and hailed rescuer and rescued with a clear-voiced cheer as thev came up excited and breathless, hustlinc before them the outraged swan, who waddled furiously forward, craning its neck and snapping. "What is that?" muttered Jones aside to Ellis as the dragon and Lohengrin embraced hysterically. He glanced toward the Rhine-maiden, who was hiding behind a tree. "Rhine wine with the cork pulled," replied Ellis gravely. "Go up to camp and set her your poncho. I'll do what I can To make'thinsrs comfortable in camp." The drl iii armor was saying, "Yon poor, brave dear! How perfectly splendid it was of you to plunge into the flood with all that 'pasteboard dragon-skin tied to von—like Horatius at the bridge. Molly, 'l'm simply overcome at your bravery !" ' And all the while she was saying this, Mollv Sandys was saying: "Helen, how did 'vou ever dare to try to save the boat-.'wiih those horrid swans flapping and nipping at you every second ! It was the most courageous thing I ever heard of, and I simply revere you, Helen Gay!" Together they continued : "Isn't it dreadful? "What, on earth are we to do?" Jones, returning from camp with Ins poncho,'said: "Oh, there's a jolly fire in camp and plenty of provisions": and sidled toward the tree behind which Professor Rawson was attempting to prevent several yards of cheesecloth from adhering too closelv to her outline. "Go away !'' said that spinster severely, peering out at him with a visage terminating iii a length of swanlike neck which might have been attractive if feathered. _ "I'm only bringing you a poncho," said Jones, blushing. Ellis hoard a smothered giggle behind him, but when ho turned Molly Sandys had' shrunk into her dragon-skin, and Helen Gay had lowered the vizor of her helmet.

"I think we had better go to the campfire," ho said gravel v. "It's only a stop." "We think so, too," they said. "Thank vou for asking us, Mr Ellis." So Ellis led the way; after him slopped the dragon, its scaled tail dragging sticks and dead leaves in its wake; next waddled the indignant swan, perforce, prodded forward by the brown-eyed, slender maid in her tin armor. Professor Rawson, mercifully disguised in a rubber poncho, under which her thin shins twinkled, camein the rear, gallantly conducted by Jones in oozing shoes. In the silence befitting such an extraordinary occasion the company formed a circle about the campfire. Presently Professor Rawson looked sharply at the 'damp dragon. "Child !" she exclaimed, "you ought to take that off this instant!'' «B u t—but I haven't very much on, protested Molly Sandys with a shiver. "I'm onlv dressed as a—a page." "It, can't be helped," retorted the professor with decision; "that dragon is nothing but soaking pulp except where the tail is on fire !" Ellis hastily set his foot on the sparks, j just as Molly Sandys jumped. There was a tearing, ripping sound, a stifled scream, and three-quarters of a page in blue satin and lisle thread, wearing the head and shoulders of a dragon, shrank down behind Professor Rawson's poncho-draped figure. "Here's mv poncho,'' cried Ellis hastily; "I am awfully sorry I ripped your gown— I mean your pasteboard tail —but you switched it into the fire and it was burn"Have you something for me! inquired Miss Gay, coloring with calm; "I'm not very comfortable, either." Jones' enraptured eyes lingered on the slim shape in mail; he hated to do it, but he brought a Navajo blanket and draped in it the most distractingly pretty figure his rather nearsighted eyes had ever encountered.

"There," explained Ellis courteously, "is the shanty. I've hung a blanket over it, Jones and I sleep here by the fire." "Sleep!" faltered Molly Sandys. "I think we ought to be starting " "The forests are flooded; we can't get you back to the Summer School to-night," said Ellis. Professor Rawson shuddered. "Do you mean that we are cut off from civilization entirely?" she asked. "Look !" replied Ellis. i The ridge on which the camp lay had become an island; below it roared a spreading flood under a column of mist and spray; all about them the water soused and washed through the forest; below them from the forks came the pounding thunder of the falls. "There's nothing to be alarmed at, of course," he said, looking at Molly Sandys.

The grav eyes looked back into his. "Isn't there, really !" she asked. _ "Isn't there!" questioned Miss (jays brown eyes of Jones' pleasant, near-sighted "No," signalled the orbs of Jones through his mud-spattered eyeglasses. •Tm hungry," observed Professor hawson in a patient but plaintive voice, like the note of a widowed guinea-hen. So they all sat down on the soft pineneedles, while Ellis began his eulinary sleight-in-hand; and in due time trout were frying merrily, bacon sputtered, ashcakes and coffee exhaled agreeable odors, and mounds of diaphanous flapjacks tottered in hot steaming fragrance on either Hank. There were, but two plates; Jones constructed bark patters for Professor liawson, Ellis and himself; Helen (Jay shared knife and fork with Jones; Molly Sandys condescended to do the same for Kllis: Professor Hawson had a set of those articles to herself. And there, in the pleasant glow of the fire. Mollv Sandys, cross-legged beside Kllis. drank out of his tin-cup and ate his flapjacks; and Helen Gay said shyly thatnever had she tasted such a ban.piet as this lorest fare washed down with bumpers •«! icy, aromatic, spring water. As for Professor Hawson. she lifted the hem of hiponcho and discreetly dried that porlio", of the Khine-maiden's clothing win. h needed it; and while she sizzled contentedly, she ate flapjack on flapjack, and troutafter trout, until merriment grew within her and she laughed when the younger people laughed, and felt a delightful thrill of recklessness tingling the soles of her stockings. And why not! "It's all a very simple matter, after all," declared Jones; "it's nothing but a slate of mind. I thought I was leading a simple life before I came here, but I wasn't. Why? Merely because I was not in ;, state of mind. Put"—and here he looker full at Helen Gay—"but no sooner had 1 realized what these awful solitudes mic!,: contain, than, instantly, I found mysel: in a siate of mind. Then, and then only. I understood what heavenly perfection might be included in that frayed and fraz. zleil phrase, 'The Simple Life.' " "I understod it long ago," said Kllisdreamilv. •Did you?" asked Molly Sandys.

Yes —long ago—about six hours ago"— ho lowered his voice, for Molly Sandy:liad turned her head away from the fire light toward tlio cooler shadow of tho forest —"about sir hours ago." 'What happened," sho asked carelessly, "about sir hours ago?" "I first saw you." "2J0," she said calmly, "I first Raw you and took your picturo!" She spoko coolly enough, but her color was .high. "Ah, but before that shutter clicked, convicting mo of a misdemeanor, your picture had found a place "

"Mr Ellis!" "Please let me " "Xo!" "Please " A silence. •'Then you must speak lower," sho said, "and pretend to bo wathching tho stream." Professor Rawson gleefully scrapod her plate and snuggled up in her poncho. She was very happy. When sho could eat no more she asked Jones what his theory might be concerning Wagner's influence- on Richard Strauss, and Jones said he liked waltzes but didn't know that tho man who wrote The Simple Life had anything to do with that sort of thing. And Professor Bauson laughed and laughed, and quoted a Greek proverb; and presently arose- and went into the shanty, dropping the blanket bohind her.

"Don't sit up late," sho called sleepily. "Oh, no," came the breathless duet. A few minutes later a gentle mellow muflled monotone vibrated in the evening air. ]t was the swan-song of Professor Rawson.

Ellis laid fresh logs on the hlaw, lighted a cigarette, and returned to his scat beside Molly Sandys, who sat. swathed in her poncho, leaning back against the base of a huge pine. ''Jones is right," he .'aid ; "the simple life—tho older" and simpler emotions, tho primal desire —is a state of mind." Molly Sandys was quiet. "And a state of—heart." Miss Sandys raised her eyebrows. "Why bo insincero?" persisted Ellis. "I'm not!" "No—no —I didn't, mean you. I meant everybody—-" "I'm somebody " "Indeed you .ire!"—much too warmly ; and Molly Sandys looked up at the evening star.

"The simple life," said Ellis, "is an existence, replete with sincerity. Impulse may play a pretty part in it; the capacity for the' enjoyment of simple, things grows out of impulse ; and impulse, is a child's reasoning. Therefore, impulse being unsullied, unaffected in its source, is to ho respected, cherished, guided into a higher development, so that it may become a sweet reasonableness, an unerring philosophy. Am I right. Miss Sandys?" "I'think you are." "Well, then, following out my theorem logically, what is a. man to do when, without an instant's warning, ho finds himself

There was a pause—a long one. "Finds lumself where!" asked Molly Sandys. "In love!" "\—l don't know," sho said, faintly. "Doesn't the simple life teach him what is —proper —on such a brief acquaintance—-" "I didn't say tho acquaintance was brief; I only said the love was sudden." "Oh—then I—l don't know " "M-Mo-Mi-M-M " He wanted to say "Molly," and he didn't want to say "Miss Sandys," and he couldn't keep his mouth shut, so that was tho absurd result—a muttering monotono which embarrassed them both and maddened him till he stammered out: "The. moment 1 saw you I—l can't help it; it's tho simplest thing to do, anyhow—to tell you " "Me !"

"You, M-M-Mo-Mi-M " Ho couldn't

say it. "Try," she whispered, stifling with laughter. "Molly!" Like a cork from a popgun came the adored yet dreaded name. Molly turned scarlet as Miss Gay and Jones looked up in pure amazement from the farther side of the campfire.

"Don't you know how to make love?" she whispered in a fierce little voice: "don't you? If you don't I am going off to bed."

"Molly!" That was better—in fact, it was so low that she could scarcely hear him. But she said : "Doesn't. Helen Gay look charming in her tin armor? She is the clearest, sweetest girl, Mr Ellis. Sho is my cousin. Do you think her pretty?" "Do you know," whispered Ellis, "that I am in dead earnest?"

"Why, I—l hope so." "Then tell me what chance I stand. I am in love; it- came awfullly quickly, as quickly as you snapped that kodak—but it has come to stay "

"But I haven't!" I '"That is why I speak. 1 can't endure it to let you go—Heaven knows where " "Only to New York," she said demurely, and, in a low voice, she named the street and the number. "In an interval of sanity you shall have an opportunity to reflect on what you have said to me, Mr Ellis. Being a—a painter—and a rather famous one —for so young a man—you are, no doubt, impulsive—in love with love—not with a girl you met six hours ago." "But if I am in love with her?" "We will argue that question another time." "In New York?" She looked at him, a gay smile curving her lips. Suddenly the clear, gray eyes filled; a soft, impulsive hand touched his for an instant, then dropped, i "Be careful," she said unsteadily; "so ; far, I also have only been in love with love."

Stunned by the rush of emotion ho rose to his feet as she rose, eye meeting eye'in audacious silence.

Then she was gone, leaving him there—gone like a flash into tho camp-hut; he | saw the blanket twitching where she had passed behind it; he heard the muffled swan-song of her blanket-mate; he turned his enchanted eyes upon Jones. Jones, his elbows on the ground, chin on his palms, ■was looking up into the rapt face of Helen Gay, who sat by the fire, her mailed knees gathered up in his slim hands, the reflection of the blaze playing scarlet over her glittering tin armor. "Why_ may I not call you Helen?" he was saying. "Why should you, Mr Jones!"

The infatuated pair were oblivious of him. Should he sneeze! No; his on case was too recent; their attitude fasmated him ; he sat down softly to see how it was done. . . , _» "It-some day-I might be bios.* enough to call you more than Helen "Mr Jones!" •1 can't help it; 1 love you no—so n«dauntcdly that 1 have got- to tel you .owl; thing about it ! You don t nmid, do jour "Hut 1 do mind."

looks when he says tlnngs hko that! Ho shuddered, then a, tremor of happiness seized him. Molly Sandys had emerged fr Passing "ft fire, she came straight to Kllis. It's horrid in there. Don t you hear her! It's nn.lllcd, 1 know, bccaun. she's taken the swan to bed with her. and it's asleep, too, and acting as though 1 rofessor Uawson's head were a nest-egg. I ■im not slecpv ; 1~1 believe 1 shall sit up i,y this delightful fire all night. Make m. a'nest of blankets." Jones and Helen were looking across hj« lire at them in silence; KH.s unro led some blankets, made a, nest of the ...» of II,,! pine full in Ihe fire-glow. Swathe,l to | K , r smooth white throat, Molly sank mto 1 '"Now " she said innocently, "wo citn talk. Helen'. Ask Mr Jonesto n.-iko some eolicc. Oh, thank you, Mr Jones! Isn't this perfectly delicious! So simplw, so primitive, so sincere'-she looked at KHiU-so jolly. H the simple life is only a state of mind I can understand how casjr it is to follow it to sheerest happiness. And in a low voice, .\o Ellis: "tan you tind happiness in it, too!" Across the lire Helen called softly to them: "Do you want some toasted c i.;e»u, too! Mr Jones knows how to make H. \ little later, Jones, toasting bread and cheese, heard a sweet voice softly begin the Swan-Song. It was Helen Mollys lovely, velvet voice joined m ; KH.s cautiously tried his baritone; Jones wisely remained mute, and the cheese sizzled odiscreet tremolo. Jt was indeed the swan.oiig of the heart-whole and fancy-free-the swan-song of the unawakencd. I'or the old order of things was passing away—hid passed. And with the moon mounting slve.vd splendor over the . forest, the newer order of life-lhu simpler ilia sweeter—because so plain to them that thev secretlv wondered, as they ate. their ( „. (st , and cheese, how }l»>V'» ul V ,n ™ lived so long, the old and dull complexity of a life through the eventless days of which their hearts had never quickened to the oldest, the most primitive, the m ■■- :>]est of appeals. And so, there, under the burn, t moon, soberly, sharing their toasted cle ••. the muffled swan-song of a maiden . • thrilling their enraptured ears, began -r them that state of mind in the invmlut. mvsterv of which the passion tor the simple life' is hatched. ~„.,, 11llI(111 "If we only had a banjo!" sighed Helen. "I have a jew's-harp," ventured Jonos. "I ...in not very musical, but every likes to emit some sort of melody.

Ellis laughed. "Whv not':" asked Helen (lay quickly. "•.flor all, what simpler instrument can vou wish fori" And she laughed at Jones in a way that left him light-headed So there, in the moonlight and tU» shadows of the primeval pines, Jonessimplest of men with simplest of names—produced the simplest of all mus.eal imitniments. and, looking once into the beautiful eves of Helen, quietly began the simplest" of all melodies—the Spanish fandango. , . , ... , And for these four the simple life began.