body." He looked around and whispered: "I met her somewhere in the meadows near their home at the stream nearby on my way here this morning.'
"Have you been able to talk with her?"
"Well, not so I only remembered she looked the more beautiful and the more enchanting-just like what Scott said in his 'Lady of the Lake'———
'Ne'er did Grecian chisel trace
A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace
Of finer form or lovelier face!""
Patting Lucio on the shoulders, Camilo said:
"Good, my boy! That's the idea, Kid!"
"I am no longer a kid, now, Old Pal, but rather a Bassanio bidding fair to Portia's hand."
"Good, I said-ay, what made you so poetical-eloquent and philosophical this time? Is it our surroundings or your love feelings?"
"I know not what, but of this I am positively sure. It is because I am near the loved being-breathing in the same atmosphere and suffering of the same thought as she does. What is more, I like the farmer's life-it is just contented and very peacefully fine."
"You sure would as I told you."
They spent the rest of the day happily in the fields by working and gathering rice stalks and addressing the peasants just as soon as the day's work was over on sub-jects common to them-bits of lectures on farming and modern agriculture now, and then on educational lines,
