thing was very sweet, but I didn’t see why I had to give up my summer ito an old frontier cabin. I walked down to the edge of the lake following a little foot path outlined in tiny purple violets. I could hear the hum of the many bees, and the whole scene was much too peaceful. I sat down on the first rock I came ‘to and started to think about my terrible misfortune. I thought about all the kids at home, the beach parties, my surfing club, and Eric -- mostly of Eric. Eric was the most popular boy at Wellington High School, back in Los Banos, California. He was captain of the football team, president of the senior class, and a very good dancer and region swimmer, and very good looking. Everybody thought that we made a darling couple, and I felt very lucky to have his ring. Eric has skin that stays a deep dark bronze all year round. His deep blue eyes startle and flirt, and his blond, almost white, hair blends into the sharp contrast of his tanned skin. Everytime I thought of his being home without me, I almost cried with frustration. He had given me his ring just three days ago, and there was so much competition at home I knew all hope was lost. Suzanne French is the prettiest girl in ithe junior class, and she had aiways been jealous of my going out with Eric. I’m cute, with my long auburn hair, turned up nose, green eyes and freckles, but just cute. I’m cute but Suzanne is beautiful, so then and there I decided to worry all summer about Suzanne and my Eric. Of course, Eric’s not perfect. He has a horrid temper, and sometimes he’s so clumsy it’s embarrassing; but he still seemed like a lot to worry about. All of a sudden my thoughts were shattered by an enormous red hulk of fur which slammed inte me and sprawled me out in the gooey mud along the lake. Anger was the first sensation I felt, but when I lifted my hand out of the mud to wipe grass from my eye and left from one end of my face to other, I laughed. I laughed hard loud as I hadn’t done for a time, and when I had the mud the and long finished, lI opened my eyes to find a boy standing over and looking at me with very curious eyes. We just looked at each other for a while and finally he spoke first. “You look quite good in mud.” Surprised at this remark I replied sarcastically, “Thanks, Doll.” “Oh, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that I don’t see too many girls covered with mud, and you don’t look bad at all,” he said hurriedly, patching up the ill feeling. “Well, I don’t sit in the stuff very often - - just when big red monsters knock me over,’ I said, beginning to feel rather ridiculous. His fair skin slowly turned red as he stammered, “I’m sorry. That was Russia, my dog. Did she hur, ou?” “No, I said, laughing, “I actually enjoyed it.” “Sorry,” he said again, “if I can do anything for you?” “Yeh,” I answered, “get me out of this gook before it turns ‘to quick sand.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” he explained for the third time, "I guess I was enjoying the sight of you in that mud so much, I didn’t even think of getting you out.” | I didn’t know how I should take that remark either, so I just grunted in reply. Moving gracefully, he stooped over, slid his arms under me, and picked me up accompanied \ eS i — face was alive with expression, and his pink cheeks expressed the certain zeal found in his eyes. I found him suited exceptionally ‘to my adhere tastes, ¢ / Ap == ~ — by the reluctant slurp of the rich mud beneath me. Piled in his arms I could feel the slow heave of his broad chest as he breathed, and I finally began to really notice his looks. He had light brown eyes with mysterious glints of yellow around the pupil. They were unusually big, and outlined by the thickest, longest eye-lashes I had ever seen. His nose was thin, long, and classically shaped, but his mouth was the most unusual feature. It was set in a severe line but opened onto the most beautiful smile. His hair was dark brown, long, alive, and windblown. His SN a and as he carried me toward the cabin, I began to feel much better about my summer home. He put me down on the stone doorstep, and I was just about to say something sweet when a dog barked in the distance, and he ‘turned and ran ttoward it. Sighing loudly, I started to go inside, but was halted by a deep yell-- “Hey, what's your name, Mud?” “Jill!” I screamed back. “Mine’s Rex!” he yelled, and disappeared into the woods followed by the big red dog he called Russia. During the next few days, I went on frequent walks to the lake, but I never saw anything of a boy or a dog. Neither of my grandparents knew anything of the boys existence, and by the end of the week I was positive I had imagined the whole incident on the lake shore. Then, one day while I was sprawled out under a big tree trying to consentrate on “Of Human Bondage” and chase flies off my face at the same time, he suddenly appeared again. This time the first thing I