In North- West Canada. 5 



CHAPTER II. 



let's away to the prairies. 



Art sick of the city's rush and strife, 

 And the endless chafe of a business life, 

 The crush and the roar of the busy street, 

 The jar of pavement, and stifling Iieat, 

 The endless toiling for dear-bought gain. 

 The wearying tension of nerve and brain ? 

 Then cast all from you, and hie away 

 For a glorious, restful holiday. 



The gun hangs long on the lonely wall ; 



The tackle is hid 'neath a dusty pall ; 



The reel has forgotten the song it sings ; 



The flies would fain sti-etch their deadly wings ; 



The basket can boast no tempting spread, 



And the flask is cold and its spirits fled. 



Man ! is it right such things should be ? 



Why clank your chain when you might be free ? 



The breeze sighs soft with a breath divine. 



And whispers a welcome from the pine ; 



The rocks re-echo the syren calls 



Of a thousand rushing, foaming falls ; 



The game trout leaps in the shadowed pool ; 



The deer drinks long of the water cool ; 



And inoose and caribou safely stray. 



For your rod and rifle are far away. 



Leave then, the desk, and ease the strain ; 

 Leave the noisy machinery and the doubtful gain. 

 The breath of the woods gives strength anew, 

 And tunes the nerves till they answer true — 

 Seek nature's shrine that she may bless, 

 And lose your care in the wilderness ; 

 For the grouse is sounding his rallying drum. 

 And the voice of forest and stream says " come ! " 



"/f T is the first of June, the happiest month of the year 

 to the lovers of birds. The lilacs and apple-trees 

 are in full })lossom, sending forth a delicious per- 

 Aiir^' fume which comes through the open windows as I 

 S^i/v sit at supper, the last I shall have at home for many 

 days. Several robins are singing their evening song 

 before going to rest, and the nighthawk's screech can be heard 



