comrades have reached the hotel, the boy has promised faithfully never
to take his little brother off again without asking leave; and the
father has promised that the boy shall have a real jointed fishing-rod
of his own, so that he will not need to borrow old Horace's pole any
more.

At breakfast the next morning the family are to have a private dish;
not an every-day affair of vulgar, bony fish that nurses can catch, but
trout--three of them! But the boy looks up from the table and sees the
adored of his soul, Annie V----, sitting at the other end of the room,
and faring on the common food of mortals. Shall she eat the ordinary
breakfast while he feasts on dainties? Do not other sportsmen send
their spoils to the ladies whom they admire? The waiter must bring a hot
plate, and take this largest trout to Miss V---- (Miss Annie, not her
sister--make no mistake about it).

The face of Augustus is as solemn as an ebony idol while he plays his
part of Cupid's messenger. The fair Annie affects surprise; she accepts
the offering rather indifferently; her curls drop down over her cheeks
to cover some small confusion. But for an instant the corner of her eye
catches the boy's sidelong glance, and she nods perceptibly, whereupon
his mother very inconsiderately calls attention to the fact that
yesterday's escapade has sun-burned his face dreadfully.

Beautiful Annie V----, who, among all the unripened nymphs that played
at hide-and-seek among the maples on the hotel lawn, or waded with white
feet along the yellow beach beyond the point of pines, flying with merry
shrieks into the woods when a boat-load of boys appeared suddenly around
the corner, or danced the lancers in the big, bare parlours before the
grown-up ball began--who in all that joyous, innocent bevy could be