“Oh, I live in the air mostly. Sometimes I come down to have some washing done and to vote—at least, I came down once to vote—that was last June, but as no elections were going on just then and as my having arrived at the age of twenty-one did not seem to make them hurry, I went up in the air again. When I do vote, though, it will be out in Louisville, Kentucky. That’s where I have my washing done. You don’t say what you think of such a name as Tom Smith.”
“It is not very—romantic, but it must have been a nice name to go to school with.”
“Great! There were so many of us that the lickings didn’t go round.”
The girl was leading the way down the mountain path and they came to the spring where she had performed her ablutions earlier.
“This is the fountain of Pirene.”
“Ah! I fancied we would come to it soon,” and he stooped and drank his fill, shaking the drops from his crisp curls as he got up.
“I love to drink that way,” cried Nan. “I had a big deep drink as I went up the mountain.”
“Of course you drink that way! How else could a wood nymph drink? You might make a cup of your little brown hand, but even that is almost too modern. Ah, there is the camp! How jolly it looks! Are there any people there? It looks so quiet.”
“Any people there? Quiet! It is running over with people. They are all asleep now, that is the reason it is so quiet. There will be noise enough later.”