There was much more of this kind of thing; suffice it to say that they spent a Christmas of never-to-be-forgotten happiness, and left at last with the heartfelt farewells of their kind entertainers ringing in their ears, and promises that, if Providence spared them, this visit would certainly not be their last.
Chapter Ten.
Part IV—The Wilds of Africa.
Off to the Cape—Among the Rock Rabbits—A Wild Ride—Lost on the plains.
“Isn’t it a glorious morning,” said Chisholm, coming on deck and joining his friends Frank and Fred, who were reclining in their lounge chairs, books in hand, under the awning reading, or pretending to read. And Chisholm himself looked glorious, glorious in the strength and beauty of his young manhood. He was dressed in white from top to toe, with sun hat and low cut collar, which showed his brown and shapely neck to perfection. His face was weather-beaten, that was the least that could be said of it, and loosely dressed as he was, you seemed to see the play of every muscle in his manly form, as he moved; and, when he waved his arms almost rejoicingly in the balmy but bracing breeze, that fanned the sunny sea, he looked as lithe and graceful as a young tiger.
“A glorious morning,” he said again.
“Beautiful,” said Fred, gazing languidly around him.