g thing, the evolution
of human thought. I also turn from those who borrow, but neglect to tell
their sources. I want my "simple boys and girls of Washington" to know
that to-day is a day of honest science; that events have antecedents;
that "luck" does not exist; that the world will improve only through
thoughtful social effort, and that lives are happy only in that effort.
And with it all there will be time for beauty and verse and color and
music--far be it from me to shut these out of my own life or the lives
of others. But they are instruments, not attributes. I am very glad you
wrote.

Sincerely yours,
Carleton H. Parker.

CHAPTER XIII

In May we sold our loved hill nest in Berkeley and started north,
stopping for a three months' vacation--our first real vacation since we
had been married--at Castle Crags, where, almost ten years before, we
had spent the first five days of our honeymoon, before going into
Southern Oregon. There, in a log-cabin among the pines, we passed
unbelievably cherished days--work a-plenty, play a-plenty, and the
family together day in, day out. There was one little extra trip he got
in with the two sons, for which I am so thankful. The three of them went
off with their sleeping-bags and rods for two days, leaving "the girls"
behind. Each son caught his first trout with a fly. They put the fish,
cleaned, in a cool sheltered spot, because they had to be carried home
for me to see; and lo! a little bear came down in the night and ate the
fish, in addition to licking the fat all off the frying-pan.

Then, like a bolt from the blue, came the fateful telegram from
Washington, D.C.--labor difficulties in construction-work at Camp
Lewis--would he report there at once as Government Mediator. Oh! the
Book, the Book--the Book that was to be finished without fail before the
new work at the University of Washington began! Perhaps he would be back
in a week! Surely he would be back in a week! So he packed just enough
for a week, and off he went. One week! When, after four weeks, there
was still no let up in his mediation duties,--in fact they increased,--I
packed up the family and we left for Seattle. I had rewound his
fishing-rod with orange silk, and had revarnished it, as a surprise for
his home-coming to Castle Crags. He never fished with it again.

How that man loved fishing! How he loved every sport, for that matter.
And he loved them with the same thoroughness and all