loping at full speed and with their broad- 

 swords cut the tendons of its legs, thus 

 completely disabling it. Although the 

 natives love to hunt the animal they love 

 still more to own a living one and their 

 heads may often be seen peering over 

 the inclosure in the native villages. 



In 1836 four Giraffes were successfully 

 taken to the zoological gardens at Re- 

 gent's Park, London. From this time 

 they became somewhat common in 

 menageries so that many people have seen 



the living animal, but all view it with 

 curiosity as did the old Romans in the 

 time of Julius Caesar, when individuals 

 were brought to Rome on the occasion 

 of the games. And it is not strange that 

 at a later date the picture of this curious 

 and then unknown animal, found on 

 Egyptian monuments, were pronounced 

 "a dream fancy of an unbridled artistic 

 imagination." 



John Ainslie. 



THE FLAG. 



I plucked a flag, half open 

 To the sunlight it waved and blew, 

 And bent o'er the water beside it 

 Where the sweet pond-lilies grew. 

 The stem broke short in my fingers, 

 The bloom remained in my grasp. 

 But the life of the swaying pretty thing 

 I tried in vain to clasp. 



The breezes were floating gently by 

 The calm, peaceful waters reflected the sky; 

 The flag-stalk nodded its flowerless head, 

 In my hand lay the blossom withering, dead. 



I stood for a moment longing 

 As I seldom had longed before, 

 Longing for even the life that was gone 

 To return to that flower no more. 

 But the breezes bent over me softly 

 And whispered, the lost is found, 

 For whatever you pluck from the surface 

 Is restored once more in the ground; 



For the gardens of earth hold blossoms more fair 

 Than the one you have plucked and are holding there. 



— Ella Van Fossen. 



186 



