prizes; the Wesleyan minister helped, and he and the young student,
who was relieving in the Presbyterian Church, held the string at the
winning point.

They had to get mostly clergymen for the races because all the men
had wandered off, somehow, to where they were drinking lager beer out
of two kegs stuck on pine logs among the trees.

But if you've ever been on a Mariposa excursion you know all about
these details anyway.

So the day wore on and presently the sun came through the trees on a
slant and the steamer whistle blew with a great puff of white steam
and all the people came straggling down to the wharf and pretty soon
the Mariposa Belle had floated out on to the lake again and headed
for the town, twenty miles away.


I suppose you have often noticed the contrast there is between an
excursion on its way out in the morning and what it looks like on the
way home.

In the morning everybody is so restless and animated and moves to and
fro all over the boat and asks questions. But coming home, as the
afternoon gets later and the sun sinks beyond the hills, all the
people seem to get so still and quiet and drowsy.

So it was with the people on the Mariposa Belle. They sat there on
the benches and the deck chairs in little clusters, and listened to
the regular beat of the propeller and almost dozed off asleep as they