miny, are forthcoming upon
solicitation. It is by no means a fashionable resort; the Levices had
searched for something as unlike the Del Monte and Coronado as milk is
unlike champagne. They were looking for a pretty, healthful spot, with
good accommodations and few social attractions, and Beacham's offered
this.

They were not disappointed. Ruth's anticipation was fulfilled when she
saw the river. Russian River is about as pretty a stream as one can view
upon a summer's day. Here at Beacham's it is very narrow and shallow,
with low, shelving beaches on either bank; but in the tiny row-boat
which she immediately secured, Ruth pushed her way into enchantment. The
river winds in and out through exquisite coves entangled in a wilderness
of brambles and lace-like ferns that are almost transparent as they
bend and dip toward the silvery waters; while, climbing over the rocky
cliffs, run bracken and the fragrant yerba-buena, till, on high, they
creep as if in awe about the great redwoods and pines of the forest.

Morning and night Ruth, in her little boat, wooed the lisping waters.
Often of a morning her mother was her companion; later on, her father or
little Ethel Tyrrell; in the evening one of the Tyrrell boys, generally
Will, was her gallant chevalier. But it was always Ruth who rowed,--Ruth
in her pretty sailor blouses, with her strong round arms and steadily
browning hands; Ruth, whose creamy face and neck remained provokingly
unreddened, and took on only a little deeper tint, as if a dash
of bistre had been softly applied. It was pleasant enough rowing
down-stream with Ruth; she always knew when to sing "Nancy Lee," and
when "White Wings" sounded prettiest. There were numerous coves
too, where she loved to beach her boat,--here to fill a flask with
honey-sweet water from a rollicking little spring that came merrily
dashing over the rocks, here to gather some delicate ferns or
maiden-hair with which to decorate the table, or the trailing
yerba-buena for festooning the boat. But Ethel Tyrrell, aged three,
thought they had the "dolliest" time when she and Ruth, having rowed a
space out of sight, jumped out, and taking off their shoes and stockings
and making other necessary preliminaries to wading, pattered along
over the pebbly bottom, screaming when a sharp stone came against their
tender feet, and laughing gleefully when the water rose a little higher
than they had bargained for; then, when quite tired, they would ret