Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. Aware of Quilt Arnold's mode of proceeding, Jack instantly dismounted, and, instead of knocking, opened the door with the pass-key. "Remember; we must keep the young fellow's thoughts away from himself. “I never wanted to kick any one so much in my life as that second fellow. .
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