"The green groves are gone from the hills, Maggie,
Where oft we have wandered an' sung,
An' gone are the cool, shady rills, Maggie,
Where you an' I were young."
XII
THE next was one of the slow-coming days that seem to be delayed by the great burden of their importance. With eager, impatient curiosity, Master had looked 'orward. Had he witnessed the first scenes of his own life comedy? If so, what would the next be?
He rose early and dressed with unusual care, and was delighted to see a sky full of warm sunlight. The children were awake, and he helped them to put on their best attire while Sinth was getting breakfast in the cook-tent. Soon, with Socky and Sue in the little wagon, he was on the trail to Catamount Pond. Strong was to come later and bring their luncheon and begin the construction of a camp.