It was, he thought, rather a striking scene--the great train standing in the rugged wilderness, the wide stretch of gleaming water running back among the firs, and the swarm of jaded immigrants splashing bare-footed along the beach.

Their harsh voices and hoarse laughter broke discordantly on the silence of the woods.
After a while an elderly man, in badly-fitting clothes and an old wide-brimmed hat, sauntered up with the girl George had noticed, and stopped to survey the passengers.
"A middling sample; not so many English as usual," he remarked.

"If they keep on coming in as they're doing, we'll get harvest hands at a reasonable figure." "All he thinks about!" Edgar commented, in a lowered voice.

"That's the uncivil old fellow who smokes the vile leaf tobacco; he drove me out of the car once or twice.

It's hard to believe he's her father; but in some ways they're alike." "I can't help feeling sorry for them," the girl replied.