Kilmeny of the Orchard

maple woods, tinkled faintly and music— ally, on the still crystal air, which, in spite of its blandness, still retained a touch of the wholesome austerity and poignancy of a Canadian spring. The whole world seemed to have fallen, for the time being, into a pleasant untroubled dream.

The scene was very peaceful and pas- toral—almost too much so, the young man thought, with a shrug of his shoul— ders, as he stood on the worn steps and gazed about him. How was he going to put in a whole month here, he wondered, with a little smile at his own expense.

“ Father would chuckle if he knew I was sick of it already,” he thought, as he walked across the play-ground to the long red road that ran past the school. “ Well, one week is ended, at any rate. I’ve earned my own living for five whole days, and that is something I could never say before in all my twenty—four years of ex- istence. It is an exhilarating thought.

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