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of the most interesting and attractive young people whom I'd met up to that time or since for that matter. They were near enough so that I couldn't help hearing about everything they said and, being impressed by the effervescence and enthusiasm of the one girl, I sneaked a quick look or so at her. I guessed she was in her early 20s. She was short and had a strong little body with round, firm arms. She wore a maroon jersey and slacks and a dark bandanna was around her brown hair. She had a round face, frightfully freckled, a jolly smile revealing beautifully spaced white teeth, honest gray eyes and her hair was bobbed. She wasn't pretty but appealingly attractive. And when she talked to her laconic friend, she simply bubbled with enthusiasm for the beauties of the trip, of life, of love, of romance, ambition. I don't think I'd ever heard anyone so overflowing with the sheer joy of being around in such a wonderful world. The only sample of this particular conversation which I recorded, is the following exchange between her and the laconic girl:

She: What is your greatest ambition in life?
L.G.: I haven't any.
She: Oh, I have! I wish I could have and care for all the beautiful little cottages in the world, surrounded by trees and flowers, nestled in some delightful little spot somewhere.

What she said was impossible but her enthusiasm carried her away. While I failed to make any contact with her on this occasion, what I'd overheard of the conversation convinced me that there was someone worth knowing and before the trip was over, I would know her. Happily, I did. But she was so popular with just about everyone aboard that it was very difficult to get close enough to her to learn much about her, but in the next six days, I gathered many impressions and a few facts. These will be set down as they developed. However, one fact I should mention for the convenience of referring to her easily hereinafter, is that her name was Dorothy Baptiste and she hailed from Hartford, Connecticut.

We awoke the next day, Monday, to find the SOUTH AMERICAN in Georgian Bay. It, along with its environs, was a wilderness paradise and still is to a large extent I believe. And so the day was devoted primarily to cruising the sheltered waters of a magnificent virgin wilderness, almost too clean and unspoiled to be true. Our first stop was Midland, a tiny town near the south end of Georgian Bay. I think we carried a little freight and the purpose of the Midland stop was to deliver some because there appeared to be no other excuse. Then we proceed north to the town of Parry Sound which is on the east side of the Bay. This was more of a thriving community and we went ashore briefly to look things over. A few little Indian children were adorable, dressed in native costume.