fully guilty;—and then, when I got there, and he had put it on the table and unlocked it for me, and I went to pay him,—he wouldn't take a cent! I felt about two inches high! It's queer, though, isn't it, Chet, that we are in such a habit of paying for everything that any one does for us, that when some person who isn't a particular friend is willing to do a kindness, just to help, it makes us feel small to accept it? It doesn't seem as if it ought to be that way, does it? Before I left there, I got used to having kindnesses done,—just to be kind. It is a mighty pleasant thing to get used to,—and it is contagious, too.
"I had a week of the glorious out-doors there. I never saw such out-doors before;—such crooked brown roads that lead you on and on, because you know that just around the bend is going to be something that you absolutely must see; but you never get tired. And such a wonderful little river, winding and twisting, with the trees meeting overhead, and the vines dropping down and patting your cheeks and tweaking your hair as you row under them. And down below the dam, it is shallow, only a foot deep, perhaps, and running over a perfectly flat rock bottom as smooth as
