in the water. And as much surprised as any, I am sure, was that
hard-worked-looking housewife, when I came up from under the bank
in front of her house, and with pail in hand appeared at her door
and asked for milk, taking the precaution to intimate that I had no
objection to the yellow scum that is supposed to rise on a fresh
article of that kind.

"What kind of milk do you want?"

"The best you have. Give me two quarts of it," I replied.

"What do you want to do with it?" with an anxious tone, as if I
might want to blow up something or burn her barns with it.

"Oh, drink it," I answered, as if I frequently put milk to that
use.

"Well, I suppose I can get you some;" and she presently reappeared
with swimming pail, with those little yellow flakes floating about
upon it that one likes to see.

I passed several low dams the second day, but had no trouble. I
dismounted and stood upon the apron, and the boat, with plenty of
line, came over as lightly as a chip, and swung around in the eddy
below like a steed that knows its master. In the afternoon, while
slowly drifting down a long eddy, the moist southwest wind brought
me the welcome odor of strawberries, and running ashore by a
meadow, a short distance below, I was soon parting the daisies and
filling my cup with the dead-ripe fruit. Berries, be they red,
blue, or black, seem like a special providence to the camper-out;