But here she come yearly and gathered her strong, stalwart sons about her, welcomin' them with the same old tender smile, and constant love, and she, wropt completely round in the warm atmosphere of their love and devotion. Year after year went happily by till the last time came, and she went away out of her high castle into a still higher one. But I liked Castle Rest, for it seemed a monument riz up to faithful, patient mothers fur and near, rich and poor, by the hand of filial gratitude and love. Comfort Island is real comfortable lookin', and Friendly Island looked friendly and neighborly. And Nobby Island looked grand and stately instead of nobby, the great house settin' up there on a high rock with big green lawns and windin' paths under the shade trees, and the bright faced posies on its tall banks peekin' over to see their faces in the deep water below, and mebby lookin' for the kind master who had gone away to stay. [Illustration: "_I liked Castle Rest. It seemed a monument riz up to faithful, patient mothers by the hand of filial gratitude and love._" (_See page 48_)] And pretty soon our boat sorter turned round and backed up graceful into Alexandria Bay, and we hitched it there and lay off agin the harbor real neighborly. There wuz two hotels there in plain sight, each one on 'em as long as from our house to Miss Derias Bobbettses, all fixed off with piazzas and porticos and pillows and awnin's and handsome colors from the basement clear up--up--up to the ruff, and the grounds laid out perfectly beautiful. Grass plats and terraces and long flights of stairs, and glowin' flower beds and summer houses and long smooth walks and short ones, and everything. And folks all the time santerin' up and down the terraces and walks, and up and down the piazzas and balconies. It beat all what a lot of steam yots and sailboats there wuz all round us. It seemed as if every island had a boat of its own and had sent 'em all to Alexandria Bay that mornin'. I thought mebby they'd hearn we wuz comin', and they wuz there to git a glimpse of us. But Whitfield said the boats come to git the mail, and mebby it wuz so. Every yot wuz tootin' on its own separate engine; it made the seen lively but not melogious. One of the boats had a whistle that sounded as if you'd begin to holler down real low and then let your voice rise gradual till you yelled out jest as loud as you could, and then died down your yell agin real low. It sounded curous. I hearn it wuz tryin' to raise and fall the eight notes, and it riz and fell 'em I should judge. Some of the yots had a loud shrill whistle, some a little, fine clear one; then one would belch out low and deep some like thunder. And anon our steamer thundered forth its own deep belchin' whistle, and turned round graceful and backed off, and puffed, puffed back agin down the bay.