"What do you think of it, Winnie?"

"O Winthrop! -- how delicious! -- Aren't you glad it is such
beautiful world?"

"What are you thinking of in particular?"

"O everything. It isn't down here like Wut-a-qut-o, but
everything is so delicious -- the water and the shore and the
sunshine and the wind! --"

"Poor Winnie," said her brother stroking her hair, -- "you
haven't seen it in a good while."

She looked up at him, a glance which touchingly told him that
where he was she wanted nothing; and then turned her eyes
again towards the river.

"I was thinking, Governor, that maybe I shall never go up here
again."

"Well Winnie? --"

"I am very glad I can go this time. I am so much obliged to
you for bringing me."

"Obliged to me, Winnie!"

He had placed himself behind his little sister, with one hand
holding her lightly by each shoulder; and calm as his tone
was, perhaps there came a sudden thought of words that he knew
very well --

"There fairer flowers than Eden's bloom,
"Nor sin nor sorrow know;
"Blest seats! through rude and stormy seas
"I onward press to you." --

For he was silent, though his face wore no more than its
ordinary gravity.

"Governor," said Winnie half turning her head round to him, "I
wish these people were not all round here within hearing, so
that we could sing. -- I feel just like it."

"By and by, Winnie, I dare say we can."

"How soon do you think we shall get to Wut-a-qut-o."

"Before morning, if the wind holds."

The wind held fair and rather strengthened than lost, as the
evening went on. Under fine headway the Julia Ann swept up the
river, past promontory and bay, nearing and nearing her goal.
Do her best, however, the Julia Ann could not bring them that
night to any better sleeping advantages than her own little
cabin afforded; and for those Winthrop and Winnie were in no
hurry to leave the deck. After the skipper's hospitality had
been doubtfully enjoyed at supper, and after they had
refreshed themselves with seeing the sun set and watching the
many-coloured clouds he left behind him, the moon rose in the
other quarter and threw her 'silver light' across the deck,
just as duskiness was beginning to steal on. The duskiness
went on and shrouded the hills and the distant reaches of the
river in soft gloom; but on board the Julia Ann, on her white
sails and deck floor where the brother and sister were
sitting, and on a broad pathway of water between them and the