Hence we may learn
That though it be a grand and comely thing
To be unhappy (and we think it is,
Because so many grand and clever folk
Have found out reasons for unhappiness)
. . . Yet since we are not grand—
O, not at all, and as for cleverness
That may or may not be— it is well
For us to be as happy as we can!”

—Jean Ingelow.

THE following spring mother removed from Toronto to her home in Muskoka, and by this time things were in better shape at the new boarding-house, and in consequence they did a much larger business during the season. In fact, for a short time the house was fairly packed with visitors. Camp-beds, sofas, and even the parlor floor, were used for sleeping accommodation. Those were the days when people visiting Muskoka were thankful for small mercies and did not look to find all the comforts and conveniences of the large city hotels in this new country- At the close of this successful season mother conceived the idea of inviting a party of her Toronto friends to spend a few days and see the beauties of the Muskoka lakes. It was the beginning of September, and I always think September is the ideal month for Muskoka; it is not too hot, there are no mosquitoes to bother one as in the spring, and the foliage is just beginning to assume its lovely fall tints.

These little September parties were repeated, year after year, so long as my dear, hospitable mother lived. I believe they were the most enjoyable times of her life. What delight she took in showing the new comers around her domains, in calling upon them to admire all the changing beauties of lake and sky and shore. Of course, she liked to have all her children there, if possible, and as time rolled on, many small grandchildren were added to these annual gatherings.

Then the dear grandmother had something more to expatiate upon, as well as the beauties of the landscape, namely the bright eyes and rosy cheeks of her children’s children; and no one could wax more eloquent than she on this exhaustless theme. What better can we wish for these dear children than that the good wishes and earnest prayers of their dear grandmother on their behalf may in the future be fulfilled?

Perhaps the first of these September parties is impressed most distinctly on my mind, because I was, in a way, the chaperon of the band. I think there were about fifteen invited, and we met that Monday morning at the little station behind the Market. It was then I discovered that, strange to say, not one of the crowd, except myself, had ever seen Muskoka; so fancy my delight in acting as guide into such a fairyland. Our minister and his wife and daughter were amongst the party. We were all in a very happy mood, bent on enjoyment, and in full expectation of a good time. By the time we got to Allanualc we were beginning to feel hungry, so reached out the lunch baskets and, with sandwiches, cake and fruit, had a nice little picnic on the cars. We could not induce the minister, however, to take anything, for I had informed them all of the nice dinner we would get on the boat as soon as we arrived at Muskoka Wharf, and he said, while pacing up and down the length of the car, “I am not going to spoil my appetite for that fine dinner Miss Hathaway has been telling us of by eating now, don’t you think it”; and he said it so emphatically that he made a convert of another gentleman of the party, who also refused to touch or taste. We remarked, though, that they both began to look very hungry and anxious before we reached Gravenhurst, and here the joke came in. When we reached the wharf we found only a small steamer awaiting us instead of the Nipissing that we expected; and, on enquiry, we found the Nipissing had been burned a few days before—a great misfortune, especially to us just then, for there was no dinner, no dining-room, and we would have to transfer to another boat at Port Carling, making it very late before we would roach our destination. Our smiles and laughter were changed to looks of dismay as we received this unpleasant information. Even we, who had helped to empty the lunch-baskets, were feeling hungry again; what then must have been the feelings of the two who had so rigidly abstained ? When we got on board and knew the worst, namely, that there were no provisions to be got, we bewailed our fate to each other for awhile, then tightened our belts, sat down, and tried to forget we were hungry-But, as the poet remarks, “a change had come o’er the spirit of the dream.” and we felt we had hardly energy enough to admire the beautiful scenery through which we were passing. After a time an idea crossed my mind, but I kept it to myself for fear of further disappointment.

Surely the men who worked the boat must eat, likewise they must drink. Then there might possibly be tea on board. I was just longing for a cup of tea, and the day was warm. I slipped away to see what I could do. I climbed down a narrow stair leading to the engine-room, and then peeped through a square hole in the partition. Goodness! what did I behold? There sat the minister and his friend, side by side, on a little shelf, a board in front of them serving as a table. They each had a big bone in their hands and were gnawing away for all they w ere worth, the perspiration streaming off their faces with the heat of the little place they were in. It appears my “happy thought” had struck them also, but somewhat earlier, and they had stolen to this spot quietly and secretly, where they found a big pot, with the remains of a stewed shin of beef, which they had appropriated and proceeded to enjoy. When one of the boat hands appeared on the scene, they used bribery and corruption to obtain addition to the beef bones, a supply of bread and a kettle of tea. Their consternation was great when they saw my face gazing in at them, for they thought the whole party were at my heels. I revenged myself for their duplicity by bearing off the kettle of tea. There were only two cups on board, though, so we drank it out of all the odd tins and pans the men could hunt up for us. The scene was so comical, when the crowd were all swallowing the hot tea out of such odd drinking vessels (I think even the frying-pan was pressed into the service), that we forgot, amidst the laughter and fun, the loss of our dinner, and good-humor and contentment were happily restored.

It was nearing sunset as we came round the bend of the river in view of Port Carling. We were all crowded in front of the little steamer, awaiting the first glimpse of the place, and as we drew nearer we saw my dear mother and sisters, who had come thus far to meet us, standing together on the wharf. Our minister was the first to see them, and, taking off his hat and waving it in the air, shouted, "There’s the mother,” and then, as if to give vent to his feelings, started singing,

“We’ve reached the land of corn and wine,”

in which one after another joined, until we arrived at the wharf, amidst a full chorus of—

“Oh, Beulah land,
Sweet Beulah land,
As on thy highest mount I stand.”

Ah me ! when we look hack on those happy scenes of by-gone flays, no wonder that our hearts are full of tender memories, and that, still quoting from the same verse,

“I look away across the sea.
Where mansions are prepared for me,
And view the shining glory shore,
My heav’n, my home for evermore.”

After we had ail received a loving greeting and hearty welcome from my mother, we hastened to crowd into the little boat which was to carry us up Lake Joseph. The evening was a lovely' one. the sunset something indescribable, and our friends were charmed with each fresh view as our little boat puffed along its winding course. By the time we reached Hathaway’s Bay it was nearly dark. Here my father received us, and one of the party called out to him, “Here are your unprofitable boarders, Mr, Hathaway.”

I can safely say a more hungry crowd never set foot in his house. How we cleared those tables! Everything seemed so good, it was hard indeed to stop eating. “Oh! this hoine-baked bread,” “Oh! this fresh butter,” and such-like exclamations from all the party, as they indulged in another and yet another slice, until we lay back in our chairs exhausted.

Of course, after such a supper we went to bed and slept like tops. Where does anyone sleep like they do in Muskoka? There might be a narcotic in the air, from the effect it has upon a stranger. For the first two or three days you feel like nodding all the time, except when you are eating ; as soon as you sit down, or lie down, you are soothed off into slumber-land before you know' it. Of course this effect soon passes away or it would be serious for the dwellers in the land. Work would remain at a standstill if this drowsiness became chronic.

The days of our holiday, however, passed so quickly that we did out best to keep wide awake and enjoy everything we could. One day my father and mother got a small steamer and took some of the party to Bala for a day’s fishing. There were still a few of the summer boarders in the house, amongst them a Dr Carrington from New York, with his wife. She was a gigantic woman, not only immensely stout, but tall in proportion. When I first saw her I was thunderstruck, and said to mother, “Is that Barnum’s fat woman out for a holiday? She must have been sent here to ‘recuperate her physique.’” Her hair, which was gray, she wore frizzed and combed out, till it made her head appear enormous, and she was profusely ornamented with chains, rings and bracelets, the two latter kinds of adornments bei tig nearly buried in rolls of fat When she entered the dining-room, gorgeously apparelled, sailing along, her husband invisible in the rear, every eye would follow her as she moved slowly and majestically to her seat. We had two stout ladies in our party, but they sank into utter insignificance and looked like infants beside Mrs. Carrington. With all her magnificence she proved to be very agreeable, and we all soon got very friendly with her.

Now, my mother was very anxious to show her friends around Lake Joseph before their return, so we planned a picnic to Cliff Rock, making a tour of the lake in the first place and landing there for dinner. Everyone in the house was to go, so, of course, we had to invite Mrs. Carrington, bur how to get her there was the question. Mr. Roberts, my brother-in-law, said it would not be safe to put her in the little steamer, as. if she moved to one side or leaned over, she would upset it; besides the boat was too small to carry the whole of our party. So he arranged to get a barge, and the small steamboat would tow us. In the very centre of the barge he planted Mrs. Carrington’s chair. I forgot to tell you she brought her own chair, ours were not comfortable for her, and so frail. In this chair was seated Mrs. Carrington ; then two large rocking-chairs, one in front of her and one behind, accommodated the other two stout ladies. They were thus planted in a row down the centre of the barge, and, with such good ballast to steady us, we ordinary sized mortals were allowed to disperse ourselves around as wre pleased.

We arranged to proceed slowly, calling at two or three places where fish were reported to be plentiful, so that the fishermen of our party might secure enough for our dinner. We had a boat in tow, and in this they went ashore at the different places. They had very good luck in fishing, too, so that we had a fine stock on board by noon, when we arrived at Cliff Rock, where we landed and prepared our dinner. We did not attempt to land Mrs. Carrington, though : her dinner was carried to her on the barge. Bet was cook, the young ones gathered the sticks and lit the fire, the kettle was slung on, and the big frying-pan brought out for the fish Mother and Sue sliced up the cucumbers, Winnie laid the cloth, and I sat down at a little distance off to make a sketch of the rock ; I had brought my paint-box for the purpose. The day was perfect, the water calm and the reflections lovely, so it was a pleasant task. As I was busily working I heard someone calling my name, as if from the sky, and on looking up I saw two of the party, our old friends Mr. and Mrs. Francis, who had gone round through the woods and climbed to the very top of the rock, and were now gazing down on us. I shouted up to them to keep still and 1 would put them in the picture. I have the little sketch yet, though many of those who were first and foremost in the fun that day have bidden a last farewell to the fair scenes of this earth.

Has it never struck you with a kind of strange mockery, when accidentally you came across little trifles which were associated with bygone days and those you have loved and lost, how strange it is that these unimportant things, of no value whatever, remain unchanged, while our dearest and bent, so infinitely more precious, have vanished from our sight?

But my moralizings are brought to a sudden stop by a most frightful din. Bet is beating a tin tray vigorously with a stick, to announce that dinner is ready, and the wanderers arc flocking in from all directions, so I put away my work and join the crowd. I don’t believe one ever knows bow good fish can taste till they eat it in Muskoka, freshly caught, fried crisp and brown—a veritable feast for the gods!

I won’t tell you how many fish we ate that day, you might not believe me ; enough to say, we all ate our fill and were satisfied. Soon after three o clock, Mi. Roberts announced that the wind was changing, and it was likely to be rough on the lake, so we had better prepare for our return.

We had great fun in the embarkation, for all the ladies who had been wandering in the woods returned with such loads of treasures—moss, ferns, birch bark, fungi, and such like—that it was quite a job getting all the stuff stowed away on board to the satisfaction of the fair owners. At last, however, we were ready, the “stout ladies” all in position, and once more we were on the move. Winnie put me in charge of my two little nephews, Letto and Tom, who were very anxious to fish over the edge of the barge. They had pieces of string tied to sticks, with crooked pins for hooks. It was hard work holding on to them both, and I was getting a little tired, when one of the gentlemen of the party, who had been fishing and was sitting next to Letto, signed to me to turn the children’s attention in another direction for a moment, and meanwhile he slipped a good-sized fish from his basket on to the crooked pin at the end of Letto’s line, then let it quietly drop into the water, As soon as the child turned round he cried out, Oh, my! Letto! look at the fish on your hook,” and helped the delighted youngster to pull it up. What an excitement ensued. The children were wild u'th delight; they tore across the barge to their mother, then to their father, and everyone else in succession. They hugged that precious fish, and mauled it. they patted and pulled it, they nursed it by turns; pressing it fondly to their hearts, they would not part with it, and even wanted to take it to bed with them, so Winnie said, and they smelled fishy for days after.

Letto has never forgotten that fish and never will, if he lives for a century.

The wind blew very strong, as Mr. Roberts foretold, before we reached home, and the barge bobbed up and down in fine style. Mrs. Francis lost her hat. a sudden gust carrying it far away over the water Sue’s husband, who was, as I told you, the smart man of the family, sprang to the rescue, jumped into the boat and was after it like a flash. We could see him making straight for the little black speck in the distance, and in a few minutes he returned triumphant bearing the hat. a sorry-looking article surely, feathers and lace all dripping; but the good-natured owner took it all in good part, and tying a handkerchief over her head, said it didn't matter much, for she hadn't been so foolish as to come to a picnic in her best hat. We were soon safely back at Hathawray’s Bay and the ladies busy landing their treasures from the woods. Thus ended one of the happiest days of our lives.