“It’s a great deal pleasanter here,” said Winnie.  “There comes the wind! —­ that was a puff! —­”

“Well we’re ready for it,” said the skipper.

And stronger puffs came after, and soon a steady fair southerly breeze set up the river and sent the Julia Ann on before it.  Straight up the river their course lay, without veering a point for miles.  The sun was lowering towards the horizon and the heat was lessening momently, even without the south breeze which bade it be forgotten; and the blue waters of the river, so sluggish a little while ago, were briskly curling and rippling, and heading like themselves for Wut-a-qut-o.

Winnie sat still and silent in the shadow of the huge sail.  Winthrop was standing close beside her, talking with the skipper; but he knew that his little sister had hold of his hand and had laid her unbonneted head against his arm; and when the skipper left him he stooped down to her.

“What do you think of it, Winnie?”

“O Winthrop! —­ how delicious! —­ Aren’t you glad it is such beautiful world?”

“What are you thinking of in particular?”

“O everything.  It isn’t down here like Wut-a-qut-o, but everything is so delicious —­ the water and the shore and the sunshine and the wind! —­”

“Poor Winnie,” said her brother stroking her hair, —­ “you haven’t seen it in a good while.”

She looked up at him, a glance which touchingly told him that where he was she wanted nothing; and then turned her eyes again towards the river.

“I was thinking, Governor, that maybe I shall never go up here again.”

“Well Winnie? —­”

“I am very glad I can go this time.  I am so much obliged to you for bringing me.”

“Obliged to me, Winnie!”

He had placed himself behind his little sister, with one hand holding her lightly by each shoulder; and calm as his tone was, perhaps there came a sudden thought of words that he knew very well —­

“There fairer flowers than Eden’s bloom,
“Nor sin nor sorrow know;
“Blest seats! through rude and stormy seas
“I onward press to you.” —­

For he was silent, though his face wore no more than its ordinary gravity.

“Governor,” said Winnie half turning her head round to him, “I wish these people were not all round here within hearing, so that we could sing. —­ I feel just like it.”

“By and by, Winnie, I dare say we can.”

“How soon do you think we shall get to Wut-a-qut-o.”

“Before morning, if the wind holds.”

The wind held fair and rather strengthened than lost, as the evening went on.  Under fine headway the Julia Ann swept up the river, past promontory and bay, nearing and nearing her goal.  Do her best, however, the Julia Ann could not bring them that night to any better sleeping advantages than her own little cabin afforded; and for those Winthrop and Winnie were in no hurry to leave the deck.  After the skipper’s