"Why?" cried out Charlie Rose, who stood waiting for his partner, at the wheel, "do you think Dian is destined to be a blue-stocking or will she marry an old bachelor?" and the young man sprang gracefully to assist Ellen to her place. "Dian's never blue herself, and so she may have my bluest flowers," said Ellen, as she leaned over the seat to give her friend a good-morning kiss. Fat and jolly Tom Allen had thoughtfully brought out a chair on which stout and kindly Aunt Clara could climb safely into the back seat with him. Lucy Winthrop and Josephine Tyler, as inseparable childish friends, occupied the other seat. Soon all were seated; the plethoric baskets were disposed of; and the merry party dashed through the tree-bordered streets, John Stevens managing his double team with the skill of long practice. Just at the edge of the town a young man galloped up on horse-back, and raised his straw hat gracefully to the ladies, reined in his horse near Diantha Winthrop, and sat on his trotting steed in true English style. Diantha greeted the young man as Brother Boyle; and at once gayly devoted her attention to him, ignoring her partner, John Stevens, with girlish obliviousness. There was a great clattering of wheels and many gay jests, with gusts of youthful laughter floating out from that wagon-load of happy hilarity. The placid Aunt Clara Tyler looked on from her vantage point in the back seat, with sympathetic companionship. They overtook and passed scores and hundreds of teams, all traveling in the same direction. And each party was given, as they passed, the greetings of long friendships and mutual pleasures. When they reached the rendezvous at the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon, they found the narrow passageway between the hills looking like a tented field. Out in the open square of the regulated camp, the strains of "Uncle" Dimick Huntington's Martial Band saluted the ears with tingling effect, as the fifes piped out shrilly the melody of "The Girl I Left Behind Me." Charlie Rose assisted Aunt Clara and Ellen to alight, while he sang in merry accompaniment the words of the song. Ellie's own dancing feet were tripping, almost before she touched the greensward; and Charlie seized her hands and together they flew and pirouetted and bowed and danced to the strains of that inspiring sound. Henry Boyle, who was off his horse before the party halted, quickly appropriated Dian's willing fingers, and together they tripped in all the gay disorder of impromptu dancing over the open square, as the music shrilled and floated out on the cool, canyon breeze.