The men, in their own way, were attired as gloriously as the
maidens they were escorting. The quartet added generously to the
glowing beauty of the summer day.
Down the lake they came, in a canoe modestly scarlet except for a
single broad purple stripe under the gunwale. The canoe's tones
blended sweetly with the pink parasol and blue picture hat of one
of the women.
Stolid and unshaven fishermen, in drab scows, along the canoe's
route, looked up from their lines, in bovine wonder at the vision
of loveliness which swept resonantly past them. For the quartet
were warbling. They were also doing queer musical stunts which
are fondly miscalled "close harmony."
Thus do they and their kind pay homage to a divine day on a
fire-blue lake, amid the hush of the eternal hills. Lesser souls
may find themselves speaking in few and low-pitched words, under
the holy spell of such surroundings. But to loftier types of
holiday-seekers, the benignant silences of the wilderness are put
there by an all-wise Providence for the purpose of being
fractured by any racket denoting care-free merriment;--the louder
the merrier.
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