See him grow fat!
Our erstwhile skinny,
Diaphanous Pat."

But with "Fatsy's" flesh came increase of strength, and he proved a hard
worker. As soon as he was strong enough he began to build the raft by
which they hoped to cross the river. But progress was slow for his
endurance had limits, and he could work but an hour or two each day.
Their plan was to paddle across the river on this raft as they floated
down. Owing to the swiftness of the current they built the raft nearly a
mile farther up the stream. With the walk to and fro, which also taxed
the builder's strength, the month of July brought little progress. One
afternoon, they sauntered home, the broad, swift, silent river on their
right, the sun just above the trees on the opposite bank. Close at hand,
on their own side of the river the nearest pines stood forth in strong
relief against the mysterious depths behind. Near the river's bank long
shadows from these towering trunks lay in purple bars across the smooth,
brown carpet. It was about half-way home that the man, with an air of
weariness, seated himself upon a fallen tree. Elinor regarded him with
an anxious face.

"Patsy, you have done too much again." As he looked up, she saw in his
eyes an expression she had learned to associate with levity and
foolishness. "Be serious. You are very tired, now aren't you?"

"Just pleasantly tired. But if I were suddenly kissed by a popular belle
it would give me new strength."

When, a moment later, he arose, fresh life and vigor seemed certainly to
have been acquired. Catching her by the waist, he hummed a waltz and
away they floated, over the pine-needles, he in gray and she in white,
like wingless spirits of the wood. When the waltz had ended and they
were walking hand in hand, and a little out of breath, the lady
remarked:

"When I am frivolous in these woods I feel very wicked. They are so
silent and reserved themselves, so solemn and so very high-minded that
it seems a desecration."

"All wrong," said Pats. "This is a temple built for lovers: shady,
spacious, and jammed full of mystery--and safe."

"But it's the spaciousness and mystery that make it so like a temple and
suggest serious thoughts."

"Not to a healthy mind. Oh, no! This gloom is here for a purpose. Pious
thoughts should seek the light, but lovers need obscurity. They always
have and they always will."

A few steps farther on he stopped and faced her, still holding her hand:
"If you wil