"It's immense!" I shouted. "It's the real thing, all right! Why
this is aces! I suppose it is called 'Moonlight On Lake
Champlain?' Did this one come with the camera or did you draw it
from memory?"
"The idea of such a thing," my wife snapped; "can't you see that
you're holding the picture the wrong way. Turn it around and you
will see yourself and Little Peaches!"
I gave the thing another turn. "Gee whiz!" I said, "now I have it!
Oh, the limit! You wished to surprise me with a picture of the
sunset at Governor's Island. How lovely it is. See, over here in
this corner there's a bunch of soldiers listening to what's cooking
for supper, and over here is the smoke from the gun that sets the
sun--I like it!"
Then my wife grabbed the picture out of my hands and burst into
speech.
When the exercises were over I inquired casually, "Where, my dear,
where are the other 21,219 pictures you snapped to-day?"
"Only these two came out good because, don't you see, I'm an
amateur yet," was her come back.
Then she looked lovingly at the result of her days work and began
to peel some bicarbonate of magnesia off her knuckles with the nut
cracker.
"Only two out of 21,219--I think you ought to call it a long shot
instead of a snap shot," I whispered, after I had dodged behind a
tree on the lawn.
She went in the house without saying a word and I took out my
pocketbook and looked at it wistfully.
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