I climbed the long hill back of the Ark, descended, and walked along the
bank of the river. It was a beautiful morning. The air was--everything
that could be desired in the way of air, but I felt a desperate need of
something more substantial.
Standing alone with nature, on the bank of the lovely liver, I thought,
with tears in my eyes, of the delicious breakfast already recuperating
the exhausted energies of my far-away home friends.
When I got back to the house, Mrs. Philander, in simple and unaffected
attire, was bustling busily about the stove.
The snores from Grandma and Grandpa's quarter had ceased, signifying that
they, also, had advanced a stage in the grand processes of Sunday
morning.
The children came teasing me to dress them, so I fastened for them a
variety of small articles which I flattered myself on having combined in
a very ingenious and artistic manner, though I believe those infant
Keelers went weeping to Grandma afterwards, and were remodeled by her
all-comforting hand with much skill and patience.
In the midst of her preparations for breakfast, Madeline abruptly assumed
her hat and shawl, and was seen from the window, walking leisurely across
the fields in the direction of the woods.
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