noon
So Dr. Gallagher realized that that 's always the way when you try to tell people things , and that as far as gratitude and appreciation goes one might as well never read books or travel anywhere or do anything . In fact , it was at this very moment that he made up his mind to give the arrows to the Mariposa Mechanics ' Institute , -- they afterwards became , as you know , the Gallagher Collection . But , for the time being , the doctor was sick of them and wandered off round the boat and watched Henry Mullins showing George Duff how to make a John Collins without lemons , and finally went and sat down among the Mariposa band and wished that he had n't come . So the boat steamed on and the sun rose higher and higher , and the freshness of the morning changed into the full glare of noon , and they went on to where the lake began to narrow in at its foot , just where the Indian 's Island is , all grass and trees and with a log wharf running into the water : Below it the Lower Ossawippi runs out of the lake , and quite near are the rapids , and you can see down among the trees the red brick of the power house and hear the roar of the leaping water . The Indian 's Island itself is all covered with trees and tangled vines , and the water about it is so still that it 's all reflected double and looks the same either way up . Then when the steamer 's whistle blows as it comes into the wharf , you hear it echo among the trees of the island , and reverberate back from the shores of the lake . The scene is all so quiet and still and unbroken , that Miss Cleghorn , -- the sallow girl in the telephone exchange , that I spoke of -- said she 'd like to be buried there .