"We have had a glorious morning, haven't we, Bob?" said the Governor. "I
feel like a boy again, a boy playing truant, a boy who has ran away from
his big school of politicians at Ottawa, just to get a few days' fishing
and--and--oh, well, get away from it all."
There was a brief silence, then Lord Dunbridge continued, "Bob, you're a
boy; so was I once, but I think you'll understand. You Canadian boys do
seem to grasp things, some way or other. My boyhood was not quite as
jolly as yours is--not so independent. You see, we always had tutors and
things to look after us and keep us shut in, as it were, and I never
knew, as I dare say you do, the pleasure of getting about by myself,
and--" His voice trailed off as if he were thinking of something else.
Suddenly he seemed to awaken, and, removing his cap, let the keen
morning air blow across his long, fine hair--dark hair touched about the
temples with gray. Then he smiled down at the sunburnt boy at his side,
and said, as if he feared to be overheard, "Bob, I'd give five dollars
to be a boy like you to-day, and be able to run those rapids in a canoe.
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