some berries?"

I clapped my hands and cried out: "Oh, how cunning! Isn't it lovely?
Where--" But not another word did I say, for, on looking up, who should
I see standing before me but my emerny from Old Orchard, Randolph
Peyton! Yes, there he was; no mistake; and after all that had happened,
he _dared_ to offer me blackberries! I tossed back my head, and said,
proudly, "I _scorn_ your gift: we are emernies."

[Illustration]

He made no answer, but walked sadly away. Here is a picture of us. Of
course I can not make him look quite as ashamed as he did, nor me quite
as scornful.

When he was out of sight I sat down again, and when my surprise and
anger had passed off I almost wished he had left the berries, for I was
tired and warm and thirsty. But no, he had taken the little canoe with
him, and had not dropped a single one.

I was so tired that all at once, before I thought of such a thing, I was
sound asleep. When I woke up the sun had set, and it was almost dark. I
was alone on Green Mountain, with no idea which way to turn to get home.
There wasn't a sound to be heard except the chirping of the crickets,
and the queer noises we always hear at night, and never know where they
come from. I tried to be brave, but the tears _would_ come. I called as
loud as I could to papa, and everywhere the cruel echoes called back,
"Pa--pa--pa"--but there was no other answer.

At last, after wandering about for what seemed to me _hours_, I sank
down, perfectly tired out.

All at once I heard a crackling in the bushes not far away, and started
up, expecting to see the fierce eyes of a catamount glaring at me, but
instead of that I saw a straw hat waving, and heard some one shouting,
"Here she is! I've found her! she's all right!" and then happy voices
called my name, and in less time than I can write it I was in papa's
arms.

As soon as mamma had gone back to the hotel and found that I was _not_
with Cousin Frank, papa had started with several of his friends in
search of me. But, Clytie dear, the one who waved his hat and shouted,
"Here she is!"--the one who _really found_ me--was Randolph Peyton!

The little canoe is packed away among my treasures, and I shall never
look at it without thinking of the day on Green Mountain when my life
was saved by my bitterest emerny, who has become my friend forever!

Don't you think I have had adventures enough for one summer? _I_ do, and
we shall be home very soon, dear Clytie.

Y