Mr. Smith's caff opened, and Mr. Smith came to Jeff's Woman and said
he wanted seven dozen eggs a day, and wanted them handy, and so the
hens are back, and more of them, and they exult so every morning over
the eggs they lay that if you wanted to talk of Rockefeller in the
barber shop you couldn't hear his name for the cackling.



THREE

The Marine Excursions of the Knights of Pythias

Half-past six on a July morning! The Mariposa Belle is at the wharf,
decked in flags, with steam up ready to start.

Excursion day!

Half past six on a July morning, and Lake Wissanotti lying in the sun
as calm as glass. The opal colours of the morning light are shot from
the surface of the water.

Out on the lake the last thin threads of the mist are clearing away
like flecks of cotton wool.

The long call of the loon echoes over the lake. The air is cool and
fresh. There is in it all the new life of the land of the silent pine
and the moving waters. Lake Wissanotti in the morning sunlight! Don't
talk to me of the Italian lakes, or the Tyrol or the Swiss Alps. Take
them away. Move them somewhere else. I don't want them.