et?"

"How could I, with you on my manly bosom?"

She colored up a little. They had not been married long, evidently. "How
considerate you are!"

They were soon eating a breakfast with the spirit of picnickers.
Occasionally she looked out of the window.

"What a wild country!" she said. He did not emphasize its qualities to
her; rather, he distracted her attention from its desolation.

The train roared round its curves, conforming with the general course of
the river. On every hand were thickening signs of active lumber
industry. They flashed by freight trains loaded with logs or lumber or
ties. Mills in operation grew thicker.

The car echoed with the talk of lumber. A brisk man with a red mustache
was exhibiting a model of a machine to cut certain parts of machinery
out of "two by fours." Another was describing a new shingle-mill he had
just built.

A couple of elderly men, one a German, were discussing the tariff on
lumber. The workmen mainly sat silent.

"It's all so strange!" the young wife said, again and again.

"Yes, it isn't exactly the Lake Shore Drive."

"I like it. I wish I could smell the pines."

"You'll have all the pines you can stand before we get back to Chicago."

"No, sir; I'm going to enjoy every moment of it; and you're going to let
me help, you know--look over papers, and all that. I'm the heiress, you
must remember," she added, wickedly.

"Well, we won't quarrel about that until we see how the legacy turns
out. It may not be worth my time up here. I shall charge you roundly as
your lawyer, depend on that."

The outlook grew more attractive as the train sped on. Old Mosinee rose,
a fine rounded blue shape, on the left.

"Why, there's a mountain! I didn't know Wisconsin had such a mountain as
that."

"Neither did I. This valley is fine. Now, if your uncle's estates only
included that hill!"

The valley made off to the northwest with a bold, large, and dignified
movement. The coloring, blue and silver, purple-brown and bronze-green,
was harmonious with the grouping of lines. It was all fresh and vital,
wholesome and very impressive.

From this point the land grew wilder--that is to say, more primeval.
There was more of Nature and less of man. The scar of the axe was here
and there, but the forest predominated. The ridges of pine foliages
broke against the sky, miles and miles, in splendid sweep.

"This must be lovely in summer," the wife said, again and again, as they
flashe