The Rainbow.

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Going up Loch Lomond in Scotland, one morning, in a small steamer that plied there, we saw a pretty sight. The sun was shining brightly, but the wind was blowing in very strong, fitful gusts that laid our vessel over on its side, till one paddle was buried in the water, while the other was out of it. It was dangerous, and the engines had to stop till the vessel was righted again. The water was dashed against the boat and whirled high in the air, like ringlets; and the sun shining on them made every ring a small rainbow.
ML 03/18/1900