Canada -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Canada -- Fiction
“It is really too bad,” said Mrs. Wakeham; “we shall not have the
pleasure of Professor Schaefer's music. He plays quite exquisitely. You
would all have greatly enjoyed it. Rowena, you might play something.
Well, for my part,” continued Mrs. Wakeham, settling herself placidly
in her comfortable chair, “I am glad I am an American. Those European
countries, it seems to me, are always in some trouble or other.”
“I am glad I am a Canadian,” said Larry. “We are much too busy to think
of anything so foolish and useless as war.”
CHAPTER XXI
WAR
“Come, Jane, we have just time to take a look at the lake from the top
of the hill before we get ready for church,” said Ethel Murray. “It will
be worth seeing to-day.”
“Me too, me too,” shrieked two wee girls in bare legs and sandals,
clutching Jane about the legs.
“All right, Isabel; all right, Helen. I'll take you with me,” said Jane.
“But you must let me go, you know.”
They all raced around the house and began to climb the sheer, rocky hill
that rose straight up from the rear.
“Here, Jim, help me with these kiddies,” said Jane to a lank lad of
fifteen, whom she ran into at the corner of the house just where the
climb began.
Jim swung the younger, little Helen, upon his shoulder and together they
raced to the top, scrambling, slipping, falling, but finally arriving
there, breathless and triumphant. Before them lay a bit of Canada's
loveliest lake, the Lake of the Woods, so-called from its myriad,
heavily wooded islands, that make of its vast expanse a maze of
channels, rivers and waterways. Calm, without a ripple, lay the glassy,
sunlit surface, each island, rock and tree meeting its reflected image
at the water line, the sky above flecked with floating clouds, making
with the mirrored sky below one perfect whole.
“Oh, Ethel, I had forgotten just how beautiful this is,” breathed Jane,
while the rest stood silent looking down upon the mirrored rocks and
islands, trees and sky.
Even the two little girls stood perfectly still, for they had been
taught to take the first views from the top in silence.
“Look at the Big Rock,” said Helen. “They are two rocks kissing each
other.”
“Oh, you little sweetheart,” said Jane, kissing her. “That is just what
they are doing. It is not often that you get it so perfectly still as
this, is it, Jim?”
“Not so very often. Sometimes just at sunrise you get it this way.”
“At sunrise! Do you very often see it then?”
“Yes, he gets up to catch fishes,” said wee Helen.
“Do you?”
Jim nodded. “Are you game to come along to-morrow morning?”
“At what hour?”
“Five o'clock.”
“Don't do it, Jane,” said Ethel. “It tires you for the day.”
“I will come, Jim; I would love to come,” said Jane.
For some time they stood gazing down upon the scene below them. Then
turning to the children abruptly, Ethel said, “Now, then, children, you
run down and get ready; that is, if you are going to church. Take them
down, Jim.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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