ling up at one's feet
are soothing in their monotony. There is no fear of the encroachment of
the water, no fear of its leaving a bare mud-flat for nearly a mile; and
the unlimited expanse of blue which meets the horizon satisfies the eye,
which cares not if the land on the other side be hundreds or thousands
of miles away, so long as it be out of sight.

Two young people one evening in July seemed to find Lake Michigan
perfectly satisfactory in every respect. The girl sat on a log of
driftwood, poking holes in the sand with the pointed toes of her shoes,
much too fine for the purpose, while the young man stretched at her feet
looked at her instead of the sunset they had come to admire. I could not
help thinking what a pretty picture they made, as I strolled along the
shore with my pipe, to get cooled off after a very hot day in town.

The family were all at Interlaken, but Margaret was left in Lake City
to keep the grass watered, and to give me my midday dinner. I am unable
to decide which occupation she considered the more important. It is not
easy to get grass to grow with us, and anyone who can display a
reasonably green patch in July and August gives evidence of considerable
perseverance in the matter of lawn sprinkling. I told Margaret she would
be ready to enter the Fire Brigade next winter, she was getting to be
such an expert with the hose. But to return to the shore of Michigan.

The pair of lovers interested me so much that I gradually edged nearer
to them. The species seldom objects to the proximity of a stout little
man with a prosaic pipe in his mouth and a pair of light blue eyes,
handicapped by spectacles, that seem always to be looking for a sail on
the horizon. In fact, I never attract any attention anywhere, unless my
wife is along, and then I am only too proud and happy to shine in her
reflection.

So I sat down on a piece of stump, worn white and smooth like a skeleton
before being cast up by the waves; but when the two caught sight of me,
the man sprang up and came toward me, holding out his hand, while the
girl sauntered off in the other direction, and I saw that she was Mary
Mason.

"Hello, Link?" said I to the young fellow. "Didn't know you were down
here."

"I'm at the hotel for a week or two. I've just been making the
acquaintance of your adopted daughter."

"My what?"

"You have adopted her, haven't you?"

"Don't know that I have--hadn't considered the matter at all."

"She's a s