hat?"

"Do you think those words are quite true?"

"Those words of the hymn?"

"Yes -- some of them. I think you like that hymn better than I
do. 'Earthly joys no longer please us'; -- do you think that is
right? -- They please me."

"It is only by comparison that they can be true, Winnie,
certainly; -- except in the case of those persons whose power
of enjoyment is by some reason or other taken away."

"But you like that hymn very much?"

"Yes. Don't you?"

"I like part of it very much, and I like the tune; but I like
to be able to say all the words of a hymn. How sweet that was!
-- Governor, don't you think it would be pleasant to stay here
all night?"

"Singing?"

"No -- but talking, and sleeping."

"I am afraid it would sadly hinder to-morrow's talk, and
oblige you to sleep instead."

"Then I'll go right away. Do you think we shall be at Wut-a-
qut-o in the morning?"

"If the wind holds."

By Winthrop's care and management the little cabin was made
not absolutely uncomfortable, and Winnie's bed was laid on the
floor between door and window so that she could sleep without
being smothered. He himself mounted guard outside, and
sleeping or waking kept the deck for the whole night.

"Governor," said Winnie cautiously putting her head out at the
door, just as the summer dawn was growing into day, --
"Governor! -- are we there?"

"We are _here_."

"Where?"

"Lying at Cowslip's Mill."

"Oh! --"

The rest of Winnie's joyous thought was worked into her shoes
and dress and bonnet-strings, and put away in her bag with her
night-cap. How fast it was all done! and she pushed open her
cabin door and stood on the deck with Winthrop.

Yes -- there was the green wooded shore -- how fresh to her
eyes! -- There was Mr. Cowslip's brown old house and mill;
there was the old stage road; and turning, there two miles off
lay Shahweetah, and there rose up Wut-a-qut-o's green head.
And with a sob, Winnie hid her face in Winthrop's arms. But
then in another minute she raised it again, and clearing away
the mute witnesses of joy and sorrow, though it was no use for
they gathered again, she looked steadily. The river lay at her
feet and stretched away off up to Shahweetah, its soft gray
surface unbroken by a ripple or an eddy, smooth and bright and
still. Diver's Rock stood out in its old rough outline, till
it cut off the west end of Shahweetah and seemed to shut up
the channel of the river. A little tiny threa