s particularly effective on the water,
and the hills echoed nightly with "Don' You Cry, Ma Honey,"
"Mammy Lou," "Rockin' in the Wind" and other negro melodies,
besides boating songs galore. Migwan won a local song honor by
writing a lullaby, beginning:

"Over the water Night steers her canoe,
She's coming, she's coming, for me and for you."

But the favorite canoe song was, and always would be, "Across the
Silver'd Lake," and the girls sang it first and last every night.
The moon was in full glory at that time of the month, and the
glittering lake closed in by high dark pines made a scene of
indescribable beauty. It was harder each night to break away and
go to bed.

"O dear," sighed Migwan one night, "why do we have to go to bed
at all? I'd like to stay up and serenade the moon all night!"

"I don't know as I care about wasting songs on that old dead
moon," said practical Sahwah, "but there is one thing I'd like to
do, and that is serenade the doctor."

"That's a good idea," said. Nyoda, "and one which we must carry
out."

So the next morning they gathered around the piano to practise a
song to sing under Dr. Hoffman's window. "We ought to sing a
German one," said Sahwah, "that would please him more than
anything." They picked out the "Lorelei" and began learning the
German words.

The night was one of magic splendor and the lake was without a
ripple as the two long, dark canoes glided silently over the
water toward the opposite shore. The doctor's house, which was a
summer cottage, stood close to the beach, and a light on the side
where his office was assured them that he was at home. Gladys
started them off, and the beautiful strains rose on the still
air:

"Ich weiss nicht wass soll es bedeuten
Dass ich so traurig bin--"

Inside the office the doctor sat with his head in his hands, his
whole body bowed in grief and despair. On the table beside him
lay an open letter and in his hand he clasped a small iron cross.
"Heinrich," he cried brokenly, "my Heinrich!" The letter told
the story. When the war broke out the young man had been called
from his studies in the University to take up arms for his
country and fell in the very first battle at the storming of
Liege'. Not before he had distinguished himself for bravery,
however. He received the bullet which caused his death while
carrying a wounded comrade off the battlefield in the face of a
murderous fire from the enemy, and woun