Paddling under Palmettos — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Paddling Under Palmettos. 15 vening boats came loud calls, mingled with the toot- ing of an agonizing fog horn. “Hurrah! IJda’s ahead! Good boy! Toot! toot!” “Not much. It’s the Louise. There she comes! Sound the trumpet, boy!” ‘Madeline wins again! She’s ’way ahead on this tack.”’ As the winning canoe brought up near the club- house our three cruisers appeared in view, and were greeted with a round of cheers. They felt at home at once, for the members of the Florida Canoe Club were gentlemen who could not do too much for them. Our little party expected to spend a week in Jack- sonville. They had accepted of numerous invitations to din- ner in this frame of mind. When the morrow came they changed their minds. “What in the world is that?” exclaimed Archie at midnight, sitting up in bed as he heard a whistle and howl outside, accompanied by a rushing sound as of an express train under full headway. Ned laughed. Gomichboo <S (E(0) m