l /ldred
CHAPTER XIV.--(Continued.)
"Can't my dear fellow; don't you see
how engaged I am?" answered Eddie,
casting an expressive glance at Sllvia
Lisle, who 'blushed and simpered, and
lowered her white lids in acknowledg-
ment in the most bewildering manner.
"Denzil, you are doing nothing--go
and succor the lost damsel, and re-
store her to the bosom of her bereaved
family."
"Yes, do go, and explain things to
her, Younge,' implored the unsuspect:
lng Lyndon, "'and just say how it was
I was put in for my cousin. It is an
awful" bore," confided his lordship in a
heartbroken whisper, "but what can a
man do when a girl comes crying ta
him about some miserable boy's stu-
pidity? You bring Mildred home
safely, there's a good fellow; remem-
ber, I leave her to you;" and, without
waiting for a reply, Lyndon bustled
off, greatly to his cousin's relief, who
dreaded lest some inopportune chance
should again consign her to young
Summerton's care.
Both Lady Caroline and Mabel, who
alone there knew his secret, had gone
long since, so Denzil was left with no
one to assist him in this hour of per-
plexity~wlth no one to aid him in es-
caping the tete-a-tete drive that appar-
ently lay before him. Ever since his
arrival at King's Abbott he and Mil-
dred had scarcely spoken to each other
--had shown, indeed, a mutual, though
unspoken determination to avoid each
other in every possible way.
Then came the thought that she--
knowing nothing of the circumstances
--would perhaps imagine that he had
eonnlved at this arrangement, and had
made the most of the opportunity of-
fared to gain undisputed possession of
her society for the long homeward
drive.
Mlldred was in a sadder plight than
Denzll dreamed. Having wandered
rather farther than she had had any
intention of doing on first setting out'
and discovering that a wood in Jan-
uary is by no means the same thing
that it is in July, she began to retrace
her steps with the design of return-
ing home with her mother. Dreading
that she might be late, and feeling
besides intensely cold she commenced
to run, and as she ran her foot came
upon a frozen pool, slipping upon
which she came heavily to the ground.
Raising herself up again directly and
thinking nothing of it she hurried on
once more, but presently an intense
pain in her foot startled her, which in
a few minutes increased to such a de-
gree that she was obliged to seat her-
sellf on the trunk of a fallen tree and
acknowledge herself disabled, consider
how best to acquaint her friends with
her mishap.
Fully half an hour passed thus, and
she was almost upon the verge of de-
spair, when footsteps coming hurriedly
toward her from a side direction
roused her, and raising her eyes, she
beheld Denzil. She blushed crimson.
"What has brought him?" she won-
dered. "Surely Lyndon "
"At last I have found you,' said Den-
zll in his coldest tone, and as though
he were politely bored at having been
put to so much inconvenience. "I have
come to tell you that the others are
all gone."
"Gone!" echoed Mildred, with as-
tonishment. "Then where is Lord
Lyndon ?"
"His cousin, Miss Deverill, was so
nervous that she insisted on his driv-
ing her home, so he commissioned me
• to find you, and bear you i}is apolo-
glee," returned Denzil, repeating his
lesson with prompt decision.
"I do not understand his treating
me in such a manner," said Miss Tre-
vanion, very pale and proud; "and
where were Eddie and Charlie?"
"They also were fully occupied,"
Denzil said bitterly; 'but your sister,
preferring to return home with Lady
Caroline, unfortunately left me free."
Mildred bit her lip.
"I regret very much that you should
have given yourself this trouble," she
said slowly--"I am sorry,*you have
come."
"And so am I," returned Denzil,
haughtily; "but it is not my do-
ing. I beg you to believe, Miss Tre-
vanion that if I could have avoided it
I would have done so." Then, seeing
~he made no attempt to move, he
added, "Had you better not come? It
is getting very late."
She made no answer, but, putting
her hand against the side of the tree,
raised herself to a standing position.
As the injured foot, however, was
brought more firmly to the ground a
'spasm of pain contracted her face.
"What is the matter? Have you
llurt yourself?" he asked, in a some-
what softer tone.
"I have strained my foot in some
awkward way--it is nothing," she an-
swered.
"Perhaps you had better take my
arm," said he, still cohlly; and she re-
turned.
"No, thank you; I think I can man-
age to get on," and she did manage
for a few yards or so, when she fal-
tered, utterin~ a faint moan.
"What is the use of your persisting
in this folly?" exclaimed Denzll, an-
grily, "Do you wish to bc laid up for
a month? Take my arm di:'cctly or--"
ungraciously~"shall I carry you?
I think it would be better. I dare say
I could do it without breaking down,
as it is not very far."
"No," she answered tndignantly~
"certainly not. I can walk quite well."
But she took his arm for ~vll that, and
for a while hobbled along, miserably,
beside him, her face white w~lth pain.
"This is madness!" cried Denzil, and
forthwith, not asking any further
leave, took her up in his arms, and
walked on again, so burdened, with a
frowning brow and a set, unpleased
expression about his lips.
Miss Trevanion ":eke so taken by
surprise and so utterly prostrated
with pain, that at first she made no
protest, but presently began to cry
quietly in a broken, wretched sort of
way. Denzll stopped.
"Shall I put you down?" he asked,
sternly.
The situation, being unsought by
him, and extremely distasteful--with
his heart beating passionately, as if to
warn him how Insufficiently under
control It was--compelled him to as-
sume an ill-temper he was very far
from really feeling. Miss Trevanion
sobbed on, but made no reply, knowing
she had none to make, and so wisely
refraining from speech of any kind;
whereupon Denzil marched on as be-
fore not addressing another word to
her.
He was a strong man; but a full-
grown, healthy young woman was no
light weight--so it was no disgrace to
his manhood to confess that when at
length he had her safely deposited in
the carriage, he was rather glad than
regretful. Taking the reins from the
boy and throwing him some silver, he
drove away without a single glance at
his companion, as she lay back ex-
hausted among the cushions he had
carefully, but sulkily arranged for her.
Mildred's foot having been examined
and pronounced "likely to be tedious
but not serious," she was comfortably
ensconced on a sofa in her mother's
sitting-room, whence, after dinner, she
sent word that she would be very glad
to see them all if they would come
and sit with her. So consequently
about nine o'clock, considerable noise
and laughter might have been heard
issuing from the boudour, where they
had all assembled obedient to her
commands--all, that is, save Eddie,
Miss Lisle and Denzil Yo~lnge, with
one or two others who had lingered in
the billiard-room. Lord Lyndon had,
of course, been the first to approach
Mildred to inquire how she was and
express his tender, loving regrets that
she should have no injured herself;
but finding her, though sweet and gra-
cious as usual, somewhat disinclined
for conversation, he had left her pres-
ently with the entreaty that she wouhl
try to sleep, and so subdue all fever-
ish symptoms. But she was flushed
and restless, and could not compose
herself, so lay open-eyed, though si-
lent, with her gaze fixed upon the
door.
CHAPTER XV.
"Mildred," said Sir George, one night
about a fortnight later on, "if you
really mean hunting tomorrow, you
will have to be up betimes, as we
shall have to start more than usually
early on account of the distance we
have to go."
"I shall be ready," answered Mildred.
Accordingly, the next morning, true
to her word, she was down-stairs
• equipped, even to the dainty little whip
she carried in her hand, before any one
but Denzil had put in an appeaeance.
Lydon arriving shortly afterward in
time for breakfast, they hastily dis-
patched that meal, and started direct-
ly after for the meet, which was at
some considerable distance--Miss Tre-
vanion and the acknowledged lover in
front, Sir George with the discarded
in the background.
On their way they fell in with
Frances Sylverton, attended only by a
groom--Charlie having gone to rejoin
his regiment some days before--who
called out gayly that she had come
this route on the mere chance of meet-
ing them, and was therefore, for once
in her life, unfeignedly glad to see
them.
"And what has happened to you, O
knight of the rueful countenance?"
she asked, merrily, of Denzll, reining
in her horse beside his.
"I had no idea I was looking so lu-
gubrious,' he said laughing, "and I
don't believe I am either. It is the
morning mist that has got into your
usually bright eyes."
"No, it is not," persisted Miss Syl-
verton, emphatically, shaking her
head; "the signs of woe upon your
face are unmistakable. I suppose
you have a presentiment that you will
be slain today, and naturally don't rel-
ish it."
"You are wrong," said he--"enttrely
wrong. If I felt the shadow of such a
feeling upon me, I shouhl go straight
home again and wait for the dawning
of some luckier day."
And then immediately afterward
they came within full view of the
hounds, as they stood clustered to-
gether in the hollow, for the most part
seeming one mass of spotted skin and
waving, restless tails.
Three hours later, and Miss Treva-
nion, with heightened color and
warmed blood, wa~ riding excitedly
along to the occasional music of the
forward hounds. A little in front, Sir
George and Lyndon gave her the lead,
while behind there were none; for of
all those who had met that morning
but few now remained to be in at the
"death." Some finding the pace to hot
in the beginning had wisely drawn rein
and solemnly plodded home again;
others, more adventurously but scarce-
ly so well judging, trusting to fllckle
fortune to favor the brave, had come
to a violent end and now sat or stood
lamenting their fate and abusing their
goddess in no very measured terms;
while of those who still held on--
among whom was Frances Sylverton~
most of them rode to Mildred's left,
down deep in the hollow of Hart's
Chase, leaving to her right but one,
and that was Denzil.
A passionate lover of riding and de-
voted to sport, ¥ounge's keenest en-
Joyment was to feel a good horse un-
der him, with the certainty of a hard
day's run in view;, and today, ~his
mount being undeniable, he wins grow-
ing almost happy again.
Having made a false move about
half an hour before he was now
crashing through or over everything
that came In his way, to make up for
lost time, and gain on Sir George and
Lyndon, who--clever and wary sports-
men both--had sailed along from the
beginning straight.in the line of vic-
tory, without a moment's swerve.
Just as Denzil at last caught sight
of them and knew himself to be once
more in the right way, he found he
was on the same ground with Mlddred
Trevanion, only considerably higher
up. It was a lengthy meadow, strag-
gling and untidy in form, and Mlldl:ed,~
entering at the lower end, could
scarcely distinguish her companion
above, but succeeded in making a
shrewd conjecture nevertheless.
From where she was It was easy
enough to get into the adjoining field,
but with Denzil it was far different.
A short ugly wall rose before him, sur-
mounted by a hedge of soma sort,
thick and prickly, which effectually
concealed from view the heavy fall on
the other side• Still, it wa~ not ex-
actly an impossible thing to take,
though decidedly a "facet," and Den-i
zil, understanding the danger and
trusting to his horse to carry him
through, determined to risk it, come
what might.
Miss Trevanion, slightly ahead of
him now--having managed her last
Jump satlsfactorily~turned nervously
in her saddle to see how It would end.
She wondered breathlessly whether--
whoever he was--he knew of the----.
And then she saw the horse rise, land
at the other side; ~taggerll and then,
plunging helplessly forward, bring tt-
self and its rider heavily to the ground.
Mildred shut her eyes and pressed
her teeth cruelly on her under lip to
suppress the scream that rose so nat-
urally from her heart, and when she
summoned courage to look up she
found the horse had risen and stood
trembling at some little distance off,
while on the grass lay motionless a
mass of brilliant scarlet cloth and a
gleam of golden hair.
(To be continued.)
Poll Taxes In A. D. 1~2.
The Rev. Dr. William C. Winslow,
vice-president of the Egypt exploration
fund, says that in addition to the
papyri recently presented by the so-
ciety to several universities there is
a valuable lot of forty-three papyri
which have been received for distribu-
tion, largely treating of business and
civil matters In the first centuries of
our era. Among the seven papyri for
Columbia university Is a tax collector's
return showing items and how the col-
lectors made returns in A. D. 196.
There were poll taxes in A. D. 122.
The rise of the Nile was the greatest
annual event, and upon it taxes were
calculated. Hence one of the six
papyri sent to Johns Hopkins, treat-
ing of the unwatered l~md tilled by
Ptollarous, A. D. 163, Is peculiarly in-
teresting. She declares that her field
at Euhemeria did not get the water.
Her plea, In a word, is: "No crops,
no taxes."
How Londo~ Could Be Defended.
If t~e Dutch ever sail up the Thames
again, or a Norman force land, London
will not be unprepared. In the archives
of Pall Mall repose musty schemes for
the defense of the metropolis which it
was thought would be undisturbed nn-
til the war department commenced to
move into its new palace. But there
are busy men about and as a result new
schemes will be forthcoming for bhe
defense of London. Something like 60
batteries of artillery will be allotted to
the defense, including guns of heavy
caliber, 4.7 and 6 inches, which will be
mounted in commanding positions,
covering a wide, sweeping arc. The
mobile force for defense will ~nclude
nearly 100 15-pounder field guns, and
an army corps of three divisions of
regular infantry and 100 volunteers.~
London Express.
l~e:~tg Gladstone In Argnmant.
Mr. Eden Eddis, a famous English
po~rait painter in his day, who was
once nearly elected an R. A., has just
die,4 within a few days of his 89th
birthday. He once was discussing with
Mr. Gladstone what was the 'brightest
color In nature. The statesman claimed
that red was; the artistsald that even
in the dark you could see the blu~
flowers in a garden. Mr. Eddis
showed Mr. Gladstone a photograph
where the red flowers remained dead,
undetached from the leaves, but the
blue flowers were light and visible in
all their forms. Then the controversy
terminated abruptly with "Good-nlght,
Mr. Eddie:"
'eo le and[
~Pre.rldent of Chile.
Don Jerman Rleseo, who at the elec-
tion in Chile on Tuesday last, re-
ceived a majority for president, was
supported by most of the liberals and
radicals and by part of the Conserva-
tive party. He Is a relative of the re-
tiring president, Senor Errazurlz.
Don Pedro Montt, Riesco's opponent,
was supported by a majority of the
conservatives, or clericals, and by part
~ the liberal party. Both Senor Rieaco
k
PRESI'DENT RIESCR~.
snd Senor Montt are moderate llh-
erals.
The assassination of Hoshi Toru, the
chief of the liberals at Toyko, is now
Bald to be traceable to the organization
known as "Soshi," consisting of tur-
bulent patriots who have before now
given the Japanese government much
cause for anxiety. In accordance with
the general topsy-turvydom of the
country, the "Soshi," instead of being
revolutionaries, as the western world
knows them, are ultra-conservatlves,
who have bitterly opposed fdreign in-
novations. Wlth a logic which has
commended itself to Europeans and
Americans living In Japan, they have
Iseldom offered the "tonJinsan," as the
foreigner is popularly known in Japan,
actual physical violence, confining
their attention to their own country-
men. This is not the first time that
assasslnatlon has played a part in
their propaganda.
This year, by the way, marks a
memorable anniversary in the history
of Japan.,~ Incredlb!.e as it may ap-
pear, only[~thlrty, yearshave passed
slnce the empire of the mikado
emerged from the system of feudalism
which had existed for centuries, and
which in Its broad principles was not
unlike the ancient baronial institutions
of Europe. In 1871 the daimyates were
abolished and perfectures established
in their stead. Almost simultaneously
--for events moved very qulekly~the
disestablishment of Buddhism began
and a mint was opened at Osaka. The
following yeax the first line of railway
was laid, conscription was introduced
and an edict issued prohibiting nudity
in ctties.
To Chrix¢er* the ~rtt~rton.
Isabel Truxtun, a reigning beauty of
Norfolk, Va., ~ to christen the torpe-
do boat named after her flhmtrtous an-
cestor, Commodore Thomas Trnxton
(horn 177~. died 182~), who was voted
I S~EL TRUXTON.
a gold medal by Congress. Her fath-
er, the late William Thalbot Truxtun,
U. S. N., was the grandson of the com-
modore.
.~ot Jg..eepin~] A~oinfment~.
Carelessness in keeping appoint-,
ments is one of the evils of the age.
Time was when 4t was considered a
point of honor to be exact in such
matters, and the person who did not
fulfil his promises was not regarded
l as fit to do business with. Most men
today will promise anything, and at
[the moment have no thought of meet-
ing an engagement~ unless it is to their
own interest to do so. Punctual men,
honorable men, faithful to every trust,
spend a large part of their time wait-
ing for irresponsible lagards who
either arrive not at all, or if they do
arrive are half an hour late and full
of lame excuses. These men are rob-
bers, stealin~ the time of others in ac-
' commodating themselves.
J. W. Bell, member of the Canadian
lower house of parliament, suffered a
paralytic stroke on July 1, and is now
at death's door. tie was elected to a
s.tatAn parliament from Addington in
1882, and with the exception of the
term of 1891-'6 has served ever since.
He is considered one of the most en~
ergetic and popular members of the
c~mmons.
The Cake That W~ :Burnt.
There was a little cook, and she made
a little cake,
She put it in the oven Just to bake,
bake, bake;
It was full of plums and spice,
And of everything that'~ nice,
And she said, "An hour, I reckon, it
wlll take, take, take."
And then that little cook wenf Co have
a little play,
With a very charming cat across the
way, way, way;
She forgot the cake, alack,r
It was burnt, well, almost I)I~ck,
And I wonder what the cook's: mamma
would s~y, say, say!'
The ~Ittle cook ran off, and sen'teased
her tel'e, o~ woe,
F~r to find her cake a cinder w-a~: a
blo~, blow, blow';:
~'Clieer up," the mother said',
As she stroked the golden head',
~For accidents will happen, we: a)ll
know, know, know:"
Fuzzy,. the Woodchuek..
ID'orothy lived with ller gran(rpar-
anis on a little farm among the, moun-
talns. Se loved animals,, and was
never without m pet of some RindL (~ne
flay as Dorothy's grandfather was
taking the cow to pasture, he noticed
three little creatures playing near a
large rock. He thought they were
young foxes, and he started to catch
one; but before he could~ reach, the
place, two of the little fellows had
tumbled into their ho~e. The other was
about half way in when Dorothy's
grandfather grabbed him. It was not
a fox, but a baby woodchuck--a~queer,
fuzzy, little ball of fur, with beady
black eyes, stumpy tail, and big yel-
low teeth. The baby woodchuck bit
and scratched and struggled to get
away. But at last he was tied in a
handkerchief, and then he was carried
to Dorothy. Dorothy was delighted
with this new strange pet; and though
her grandfather said woodchucks rare-
ly became tame, she was sure this one
would. She named him "Fuzzy," and
~hen took down her old squirrel cage,
~nd lined it with soft hay and placed
aim in It, witD some fresh-cut clover
~nd a little dish of water. For a few
iays Fuzzy was very wild: He be-
saved very badly. He insisted on
~pllling his water; and he would snap
• nd bite whenever his: llt.¢le mistress
neplaced it. But by-and-by he saw
that Dorothy did not mean to hurt
him. Then he gave up biting. In two
weeks he would drink: from his dish
without upsetting it, and' would nibble
stayer from Dorothy's hand, and let
her scratch his funny, lift-re head~ I~,
a month Fuzzy had gro~n: t~,twice his;
size, and had become so. tame that he
would let Dorothy take. hlm~ i~ l~er
~trms and carry him ~bc~L. O~re ~ay
Uttle Dorothy forgot i;~. fa~te~ the
cage door and Fuzzy. v~allted~ c~ttt. Rut
be did not go far, and we~t back to
his cage of his ow~ aceozd~. The door
v, as never fastened ag~i:r~, ~nd all day
Iong Fuzzy would pr~y about the ver-
anda or x, ibble grass in front of the
house, but he always returned to his
wire house for the night.
One day Dor(~tl~y~s grandmother was
baking cookies, ,and she gave one to
Fuzzy. It was funny to see the little
woodchuck taste it then taste again,
as if he were not quite able to make
up hls mind whether hs liked it or not.
Finally he decided that he did like
it and he ate It all. From this tlm~,
dookles were his favorite food. As
~oon as Dorothy's grandmother began
to bake he would run to the kitchen,
and slt on his haunches in the door-
way, and wait patiently until his
cooky was given him; then he would
scamper off to one of his grassy nooks
and eat it at his leisure. Several times
during the summer Fuzzy wandered
off to the woods arid spent the day.
At last one cool October day Fuzzy
went off and did not return. Dorothy
was afraid some one had killed him.
All winter long she mourned for
Fuzzy. One fine morning in April as
Dorothy was walking down the road
with her grandfather they espied a big
red woodchuck sitting on a stump in
a field, "Oh, grandpa!" cried Doro-
thy, "see that woodchuck, doesn't he
look Just like my dear old Fuzzy?"
"Perhaps it is Fuzzy," said her ~rand-
father. "Call him and see)' Stepping
to the side of the road, Dorothy waved
her hands and called, "Fuzzy! Fuzzy!
come here, Fuzzy!" And what do
you think happened? Why, the big
red woodchuck first looked at Doro-
thy for a minute, with his head on one
side, and then came running across
the field--and it was her dear old
Fuzzy, coming back to her after his
long winter sleep.
Dorothy took the great red fellow
in her arms and hugged and kissed
him, Fuzzy seemed to share her de-
light. He rubbed his nose against her
cheek and grumbled down in his
throat as woodchucks do when they
are pleased.
Of course Dorothy carried Fuzzy
home and fed and petted him, to make
up for all the tlme he had been away.
That afternoon Dorothy's grandma got
out her baking tins and rolling pin.
And the moment Fuzzy heard the
sound, he started up and ran. to the
kitchen door, and took his place
again, to wait for his cooky. During
his long winter sleep he had not for-
gotten about the cookies. One day
Dorothy's grandpa found that his
vegetables had been nibbled ~f, and
as Fuzzy had never been kno'w~ to
go into the garden he thought ~ome
wild woodchuck had made his If~
close by to be near Fuzzy. That night
he set a trap. The next day when he
visited the trap, there, caught fast by
one leg, was Dorothy's Fuzzy! Poor
Fuzzy's leg was broken. He moaned
and groaned while it was being ban-
daged. He was put to bed, and Dor-
othy smoothed him and petted him,
and cried over him, and she felt that
Fuzzy under~tood how sorry she was
for him. After a long time Fuzzy was
able to go about as well as ever, but
he never again showed any inclination
to go into the garden.--Llttle Folks.
T0ddy's ]Nap.
Teddy was out in the back yard,
fffgging a well with an old iron spoon.
He had on his grandpa's straw hat,
which, of course, kept falling down
over his eyes.
"Teddy," called gran(lma, "it is too
hot for you to stay out any longer;
ycat must come in now."
If, was time for Teddy's nap, but she
didn't say so.
"~ ain't Teddy," said the little boy;
'Tse grandpa, and I'se dlggln' a well.
My bossy-cow is all 'tarvin' to deaf
for ~ater, so I'se got to dig it."
"But grandpa comes in to rest when
the suds is very hot, you know," said
grandma. "You may go out to work
again when it is cooler, Just as grand-
pa does.'"
Gramdma bathed the hot little face.
and taok off his dress and his shoes
and stockings, so that his neck and
his arms, and his little pink feet
might cool off.
"'Grandpa lle.s on the lounge to rest,
you know, Teddy," said grandma.
"Bu~ I don't want to take a nap!"
said Teddy.
"Nov does grandpa; you see, ha Just
lies down and reads the paper, and
if he gets sleepy he goes to sleep;
that'~ the way he does."
"AL~ wight!" said Teddy, seizing a
newspaper and climbing on the
lounge. "'But I want some grasses,
grandma, I can't see to read wlvout
grasses, you know."
Grandma found some eyeglass bows
with, no glasses in them; and Teddy
held-~hem astride his nose with one
han~.
"Mns' I read to you, grandma?" he
asked.
"If you please, sir; I'd like to hear
the news."
"The news ls--er--er," staring at
the npside-down paper, and seeing the
p.icture of a boat; "there's a awful
storm and the boat's all turned over.
and the people's all drownded dead!"
"You don't say so!" cried grandma.
"And there's a war," continued the
Iittle reader, "and the men wiv guns
sheeted some uvver men, and--and"
Here the little fel:ow began to yawn.
He stared hard at the paper, but h:s
eyes would close; then down dropped
the "grasses," and Teddy was fast
asleep.
llunf!ng with tho ~t~aat.: ~,t.
The new sport, beg,u~t b,~" natural-
ists, of hunting all in~Rner of wild
creatures with the earner's, spying
upon them in the s.u~tBo~e(| privacy of
their retreats, stu~yinK their habits,
domestic customs" and individual
traits, offers a Dursuit infinitely more
significant, more elevating and of
greater value to humanity than the
sport whose vista is bounded by the
sights of a gun-barrel. It certainly
calls for a higher courage, and "inso-
much is a more manly occupation.
Tracl~ing big game to its lair, clrcum-
venting it at short range in order.
to get. it in a good light, waiting for it
to str{ke an effective pos~,~ then calms-
my snapping a shutter, while unf~
tered by cumbrous weapon and a~-
munition, is a braver deed than toRch-
ing a trigger at rifle range. It cer-
tainly demands superior skill and
yields superior results. Where the ob-
ject of the chase Is some little harm-
less animal, it is usually a much more
difficult feat to secure its reflected im-
age than it would be to slay It with
a charge of shot or to land it with
a hook.
Throuyh cam0ra observation, a vast
new department of education is b~lng
opened up to the student, a vast field
tn delightful surprises, and a tender,
intimate appreciation of anima! life,
which cannot help but make better
and wiser those who probe its myste-
ries.
The hunt with the camera is an up-
lifting occupation,, educating to a new
reverence for the humblest of created
things, and free from the brutalizing
influences of sport which has killing am
,its end.
It is an ideal pursuit for young peo-
ple, many of whom have shown them-
selves most successful in the delicate
finesse, the patience and stealthy
movement essential to drawing near
their quarry without disturbing it.
In field and orchard, in canyon and
vale, among the high mountains and
In the forest depths, among birds and
insects and shy four-footed thlngs.
weird and fascinating life stories are
waiting to be unfolded which have
never yet been told.~San Francisoo
Chronicle.
Who has never done thinking never
bogtn~ doing.
,)
