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To the boys’ great joy, they found they had come out of the canyon at a point only twenty miles from the railroad. They determined to hike for it the next day. Before they started the next morning, Bob had an idea. Below the veranda at Kingthorpe an avenue of nut trees stretched a long way. The foliage was so thick that the avenue was always in deep shade, however bright the day. Not a sunbeam pierced the gloom, but far down at the end of the avenue, something shone like a big glittering eye. That was the sea shining. Just think! There they sat, in the sunshine on the wharf, eating from their baskets and having such a good time; and here was he, alone, naked, and so frightfully cold. Boo-hoo-hoo! He wanted to go home to Mother. He might crawl home through the gutters—but what would Mother say if he went home without any clothes? Boo-hoo-hoo!.

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“These canals were started by the Indians,” said Jerry, “and were made bigger and longer by the white settlers. When we get up to Holman’s you’ll see some real irrigation.” Aunt Grenertsen was difficult to talk with—so contrary, somehow, even if not really cross, that it was very tiresome. She wasn’t the least bit like Uncle Isaac of Kingthorpe, who was always kind and gentle, always pleasant. Oh, dear, no! Aunt Grenertsen wasn’t like Uncle Isaac; far, far from it! “Oh, yes; but for all that I knew Mr. and Mrs. Lind would be angry. I knew that perfectly well. But I went, and then I wasn’t a credit to the school; so if you will please take this report back”— “No, no!” said Mother, with hands on both ears..