into the room with lazy puffs.

"It will be so lovely when we get to Government House, though," Marjorie cried. "There is always a breeze up there, father, and there are plenty of trees, and three summer-houses, and that big veranda. Oh, I think it will be perfect."

"Yes, Daddy, I do, too! I think it will be gorlious!" said Jackie.

When, after much hurrying about, telephoning to tardy members of the party, and good-natured discussion as to the arrangement of the canoe-loads, they were at last afloat on the blue, shining river, they all agreed with Jack. Dora was charmed with the slender Milicete canoes. She had seen chiefly canvas and wooden ones. Her father, indeed, had owned a bark canoe, but it was of much heavier and broader build than these slim beauties, that glided through the water like fairy craft, impelled this way or that by the slightest turn of the steersman's wrist.

IN THE GOVERNMENT HOUSE GROUNDS

They landed just back of Government House, the grounds of which sloped down to the water. The house is a long, stone building, with a broad veranda at the back, and in front nearly covered with Virginia creeper. At the time of the picnic it was empty, and in charge of a caretaker, who lived in a small cottage on the grounds. When a suitable spot had been chosen for tea, and the baskets piled close by, Mrs. Merrithew proposed an excursion through the house, and Mr. Merrithew went with Jackie to procure the key. When he returned, they all trooped merrily up the front steps, and soon were dispersed through the great echoing halls and lofty rooms. Most of the grown people of the party had danced here at many a stately ball, for in those days Government House had been kept up in the good old-fashioned way. Marjorie and Jack delighted in hearing their mother tell of her "coming out" at one of these balls, and how she had been so proud of her first train that she had danced without holding it up, which must have been trying for her partners. Dora was greatly interested in seeing the room where King Edward, then the slim young Prince of Wales, had slept, on the occasion of his visit to Fredericton. When the furniture of Government House was auctioned, a few years before our story opens, the pieces from this room, which should have been kept together as of historic interest, were scattered about among various private purchasers. Mrs. Merrithew described them to Dora, who wished she could have seen the great bed, so wide that it was almost square, with its canopy and drapings of rich crimson, and its gilt "Prince of Wales feathers," and heavy gold cords and tassels.

When they came out of the dim, cool house into the warm air, the elders looked apprehensively at the heavy black clouds which had gathered in the west.

"That looks ominous," one of the gentlemen said. "There will certainly be thunder before night."

Thunder! That was Marjorie's horror! Her round, rosy face grew pale, and she clung tightly to her mother's arm. The men and matrons held a hurried consultation, and decided that the storm was probably not very near, and that it would be safe to wait for tea if they hurried things a little. It would be a terrible disappointment to the children (all, at least, but Marjorie!) to be hurried away without "the picnic part of the picnic." So they all bustled about, and in a short time the cloth was spread, and well covered with good things. The fire behaved well, as if knowing the need of haste, and the coffee was soon made, and as delicious as picnic coffee, by some apparent miracle, generally is. By the time the repast was over, the clouds had drawn closer, the air was more sultry, and even the most optimistic admitted that it was high time to start for home. The canoes were quickly loaded, the best canoe-men took the paddles, and soon they were darting swiftly down-river, running a race with the clouds.

In spite of their best speed, however, the storm broke before they reached their journey's end. The thunder growled and muttered, a few bright flashes lit up the sultry sky, and just as they landed a tremendous peal caused the most courageous to look grave, while poor Marjorie could scarcely breathe from terror. Then the rain came, and the pretty muslin dresses and flower-trimmed hats looked very dejected before their wearers were safely housed! Still, no one was the worse for that little wetting, Marjorie recovered from her fright as soon as she could nestle down in a dark room with her head in her mother's lap, and they all agreed with Jackie that it had been "a gorlious time."

Before the children went to bed Mrs. Merrithew told them about the plan which she had mentioned two days before, and to which Mr. Merrithew had heartily consented. He was to take a whole holiday, on Thursday of the following week, and drive them all up to the Indian Village, about thirteen miles above town, to see the Corpus Christi celebrations.

Corpus Christi, a well-known festival in the Roman Catholic Church, is one which has been chosen by the Indians for special celebration. As it comes in June, and that is such a pleasant time for little excursions, many drive to the Indian Village from Fredericton and from the surrounding country, to see the Milicetes in their holiday mood.

The day being fresh and lovely, with no clouds but tiny white ones in the sky, Mr. and Mrs. Merrithew and the three children set off early on Thursday morning. They had a roomy two-seated carriage, and two big brisk, white horses, plenty of wraps and umbrellas in case history should repeat itself with another storm, and an ample basket of dainties. The road, winding along the river-bank most of the the way, was excellent, and the scenery Dora thought prettier than any she had seen. The river was smooth as a mirror, reflecting every tree and bush on its banks. Little islands, green and tree-crested, were scattered all along its shining length.

It was almost time for the service when they reached the picturesque little village which went climbing bravely up its hill to the chapel and priest's house near the top. The horses were taken charge of by a sedate young half-breed, evidently proud of his office as the "priest's man," and our party at once filed into the chapel. A plain enough little structure in itself, to-day it was beautiful with green boughs, ferns, and flowers. The congregation consisted chiefly of Indians and half-breeds, with a scattering of interested visitors. Most of the natives were clad in gorgeous finery, some of the older ones having really handsome beaded suits and beautifully worked moccasins, while others were grotesque in their queer combination of the clothes of civilization and savagery. The priest, a tall, good-looking man with piercing eyes, sang high mass, and then the procession formed. First came an altar-boy carrying a cross, then six boys with lighted tapers, and two walking backward scattering boughs. These were followed by the priest bearing the host and sheltered by a canopy which four altar-boys carried. These boys were all Indians, and the mild well-featured Milicete faces had lost their stolidity, and were lit up with an expression of half-mystic adoration. After them came the congregation, bare-headed, and singing as they walked. Marjorie and Dora clasped hands as they followed, their eyes shining with excitement. They went down