the fragrant white-thorn and of the high-bush cranberry, then radiant with
nodding umbels of snowy blossoms, or to wreath the handle of the little
basket with the graceful trailing runners of the lovely twin-flowered
plant, the Linnaea borealis, which she always said reminded her of the
twins, Louise and Marie, her little cousins. And now the day began to wear
away, for they had lingered long in the little clearing; they had wandered
from the path by which they entered it; and had neglected, in their
eagerness to look for the strawberries, to notice any particular mark by
which they might regain it. Just when they began to think of returning,
Louis noticed a beaten path, where there seemed recent prints of cattle
hoofs on a soft spongy soil beyond the creek.

"Come, Hector," said he gaily, "this is lucky; we are on the cattle path;
no fear but it will lead us directly home, and that by a nearer track."

Hector was undecided about following it, he fancied it bent too much
towards the setting sun; but his cousin overruled his objection. "And is
not this our own creek?" he said: "I have often heard my father say it had
its rise somewhere about this old clearing."

Hector now thought Louis might be right, and they boldly followed the path
among the poplars and thorns and bushes that clothed its banks, surprised
to see how open the ground became, and how swift and clear the stream swept
onward.

"Oh, this dear creek," cried the delighted Catharine, "how pretty it is! I
shall often follow its course after this; no doubt it has its source from
our own Cold Springs."

And so they cheerfully pursued their way, till the sun, sinking behind