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out to the country where there were apple blossoms and violets and millions of white trilliums. Everything was to be different.

Chapter Two

The North Shore, now an extended series of rather opulent suburbs where comfortable houses half buried in ^shade trees & flowering shrubs, line the streets, hang over the wooded ravines and crossed out: stare look from the bluff at the level reaches of Lake Michigan below them, was hardly settled at all when we left the city to go out and live in the ^new house in Hubbard Woods. The ravines were deep and winding, made we were told, by the rain water draining off toward the lake at the foot of Hubbard Hill. They were full of hepaticas and violets, also of Indians whose campfires and council rocks could be found by those white men who had eyes to see. Pocahontas lived there with her mother,