220 



A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



wood had come to seem like a cool wayside chapel, 

 a place of peace. 



And when I finally left California, deserting 

 Mountain Billy to return to the East, of all my 

 haunts the one left the most unwillingly was the 

 little blue gum grove, the peaceful wayside rest- 

 house, in whose whitened shade we had spent so 

 many quiet hours together. 



