What she liked best, perhaps, was a picture that was visible from a certain point on Lake Street. That portion of the so-called street, for as far as the eye could reach, was _road_--a poor road at that. There were no houses; and the road was seldom used. From it, however, one saw the tall old smoke-stack, outlined against the sky, the long, low dock with its fringe of green shrubbery reflected in the quiet waters of the Cinder Pond; and beyond, the big lake, now blue, now green, or perhaps beaten to a froth by storm. Jeanne _loved_ that lake. Seen from that distance, even the rambling shack that her father had built was beautiful, because its sagging, irregular roof made it picturesque. Jeanne couldn't have told you _why_ this quiet spot was beautiful, but that was the reason. On the portion of the dock that ran eastward from the Duval house, there were a number of the big reels on which fishermen wind their nets. These, seen from the proper angle, made another picture. They were used by her father, Barney Turcott, and Captain Blossom. Barney and "Old Captain," as everybody called Captain Blossom, were her father's partners in the fishing business. Two of them went out daily to the nets, anchored several miles below the town of Bancroft. The third partner stayed on or near the wharf to sell fish to the chance customers who came (rather rarely indeed) on foot; in a creaking, leisurely wagon; or perhaps in a small boat from one of the big steamers docked across the Bay. Jeanne's playfellows were her half-brothers Michael, aged eight, Sammy, aged five, and Patsy, who was not quite two. Also her half-sister Annie, whose years were three and a half. Jeanne and her father were French, her stepgrandmother said. Her stepmother, Mollie, and all her children were mostly Irish. "But," said Jeanne, a wise little person for her years, "I love those children just as much as if we were all one kind." CHAPTER III JEANNETTE'S QUEER FAMILY Although it was picturesque, the Duval shack was not at all nice to live in. Perhaps one person or even two _neat_ persons might have found it comfortable, but the entire, mostly untidy Duval family filled it to overflowing. The main room, which had been built first, was kitchen, parlor, and dining-room. It contained a built-in bunk, besides, in which Mrs. Duval slept. South of it, but with no door between, was Léon Duval's own room. Around the corner, and at some little distance, was a fish-shed. North of the main room, toward land, there was a small bedroom. North of that another small bedroom. Doors connected these bedrooms with the main room and each contained two built-in bunks, filled with straw.