The elder Bennington knew the value of hygienic living.  He kept his children out of doors, summer and winter.  He taught them how to ride, to hunt, to fish; he was their partner in all out-of-door games; he made sport interesting and imparted to them his own zest and vitality.  So they grew up strong and healthy.  He left their mental instruction to the mother, knowing full well that she would do as much on her side as he had done on his.  Only one law did he lay down:  the children should go to public schools till the time for higher education arrived.  Then they might choose whatever seat of learning they desired.  He had the sound belief that children sent to private schools rarely become useful citizens.

The rosal glow of dawn tipped the mountains, and a russet haze lay on the still bosom of the lake.  Warrington made a successful cast not far from the lily-pods.  Zing! went the reel.  But by the pressure of his thumb he brought the runaway to a sudden halt.  The tip of the rod threatened to break!  Hooked!  Patty swung round the canoe, which action gave the angler freer play.  Ah, wasn’t that beautiful!  Two feet out of the water!  Here he comes, but not more swiftly than the reel can take him.  Off he goes again—­take care for the unexpected slack.  Another leap, like a bronze flame, and then a dash for the shallow bottom.  He fought gallantly for his life and freedom.  Patty reached for the net.  Inch by inch Warrington drew him in.  Twice he leaped over the net, but Patty was an old hand.  The third effort landed him.

“Two pounds,” said Patty.  “Plenty for breakfast now.”

“Tell you what, this is sport.  How many have we?”

“Seven in half an hour.”  Patty began using her paddle.

“Finest sport in the world!” Warrington settled down on the cushion and leisurely watched the brown arms of his guide.

“You’re a good fisherman.  And I like to see a good fisherman get excited.  John is like a statue when he gets a strike; he reels them in like a machine.  He becomes angry if any one talks.  But it’s fun to watch Kate.  She nearly falls out of the boat, and screams when the bass leaps.  Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is a kind of Eden.  But I’m so restless.  I have to be wandering from place to place.  If I owned your bungalow, I should sell it the second year.  All the charm would go the first season.  God has made so many beautiful places in this world for man that man is the only ungrateful creature in it.  What’s that smoke in the distance?”

“That’s the mail-boat, with your newspaper.  It will be two hours yet before it reaches our dock.  It has to zigzag to and fro across the lake.  I’m hungry.”

“So am I. Let me take the paddle.”

The exchange was made, and he sent the canoe over the water rapidly.  Patty eyed him with frank admiration.

“Is there anything you can’t do well?”

“A good many things,” he acknowledged.