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Bobby of the Labrador by Dillon Wallace
page 78 of 225 (34%)
startling, roaring blow, raised its great black back above the surface,
and then sank again from view.

On barren hillsides patches of snow, remnants of mighty drifts, lay
against the dark moist rocks like great white sheets, and here and there
miniature ice pans rose and fell upon the swell, reminders of the long
cold winter, for winter in this far northern clime is ever reluctant to
relinquish its grasp upon the earth.

The glow in the east disappeared at length, and then the sun rose to
caress them with his warmth. Presently mirages appeared. Islands seemed
to sit upon the tops of other islands, or to hang suspended in the air,
and every distant shore became distorted in the brilliant July sunlight.

"That's the way a good many of us look at things in this life," said
Skipper Ed. "We see the mirage, and not the thing itself. Hopes loom up
and look real, when they're just false. It's a great thing to be able to
tell the differences between what is real and what is just a mirage."

The wind fell away to a dead calm before noon, and though Abel and
Skipper Ed worked at their heavy sculling oars, and Bobby and Jimmy and
Mrs. Abel at the other oars, the boats, laden as they were, and retarded
by the skiffs in tow, made such slow progress that at length they
stopped at a convenient island to boil the kettle and cook their dinner
and wait for a returning breeze.

Dinner was a jolly feast, simple as it was, for in this land folk live
upon simple food and are satisfied with little variety, for their
appetites and desires are not glutted, as ours so often are. And many
things that you and I deem necessary they do not miss, because they have
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