her and was glad to go to school to her. So unfortunately he went. Several days after school commenced a party was made to go down to Seattle to one of the closing days of the Exposition. It was "Fore-Fathers day and the Seattle people had planned a beautiful celebration as well as one very instructive to a childish mind. They had built an exact reproduction of the "Mayflower" dimensions and everything perfect, and members of patriotic societies took the parts of our ancestors who came over on that early voyage to Plymouth. The facsimile "May-flower" sailed towards the exposition grounds on the calm waters of Lake Washington and at a convenient landing point stopped and slowly the passengers landed and were led in prayer by Elder Brewster. Boyd had learned history stories always very easily and I had read him constantly American and English history and he knew that his Grandmother Fitch was descended from Elder Brewster and his Grandfather Fitch from Gov. Bradford, so he thoroughly enjoyed this spectacular scene at the A. Y. & P. Exposition which made the old historical story so very realistic to this little boy of ten. He had not been gone long to Seattle when I saw the R. F. D. man approaching and I hurried down to get my mail. One letter said: "Mr. Peake and his father are in Seattle and Mr. Gleason is dining with them and the two ladies of their household at the Exposition tonight." Boyd and Mr. Peake both in Seattle and I alone at Lake Stevens!. CHAPTER XXVIII. "THE BEGINNING OF THE END.” The evening Boyd was to return from the Seattle exposition I drove to Machias to meet him. He was to get off the train at this little station which is west of Hartford, the station where we got our mail. My Lake Stevens bungalow is equi-distant from Hartford and Machias but the drive to Machias had charms quite different from the drive to Hartford. Going up to the southern end of Lake Stevens over the highway toward Everett one comes to an abrupt Y on the road and there stands one of the few guide-posts I ever saw in that country. One mile to Machias! That one mile to Machias is right through the unfathomable dark woods and down into the valley in which Machias is situated. The first time I ever drove through these woods it seemed to me that daylight had never penetrated there, the tangled masses of huge ferns, wild flowers, mosses and underbrush were always dripping with moisture, the tears of darkness. But later I saw the sun shining on these cleared hillsides for a lumber camp, with its donkey engines can soon work havoc in the densest of western forests. I had left the bungalow just at dusk of a day |