into the large pen to rejoin my friends. 

 This wretch still clung to my back and 

 I was very much frightened; I rushed 

 along by the fence and by the sides of 

 trees trying vainly to scrape him off. I 

 jumped from side to side and darted 

 here and there, but he stayed on; at 

 last I rushed into the middle of a crowd 

 of my friends and bumped so strongly 

 against a sister that the boy fell off. Of 

 course we all ran away from the little 

 beast. 



I am told this kind of thing is to 

 happen every four months the rest of 

 my life. That is my only sorrow, 

 otherwise I am pretty well fixed; I have 

 plenty of food to eat, nice pools of water 



to bathe in and kill the little naughty 

 fleas that always are fond of ostriches, 

 and I have a very nice time with my 

 friends in the large pen. Knowing that 

 many thousands of people perhaps not 

 those who look at us every day do not 

 get three meals a day, we all feel very 

 contented with our board oranges, 

 beets, hay and grape skins. When I 

 read of my grandfathers and grand 

 mothers in Africa being chased by wild 

 animals and wild Arabs and British 

 sportsmen, I feel very glad that I am 

 a young Ostrich, a native son of Cali 

 fornia, living in a Christian land and 

 living well. 



E. H. RYDALL. 



CALIFORNIA POPPIES 



"Cups of gold," the Spaniard called them, 

 As he sought for treasures old", 



He beheld their living splendor, 

 At his feet, like shining gold. 



"Cloth of gold," the field they bloom in : 



And the mantle Raleigh lay 

 In his Queen's path, gold-embroidered, 



Never equalled their array! 



"El Dorado! El Dorado!" 



Cries the heart as we behold, 

 Rich with store of hidden treasure, 



These uplifted cups of gold! 



Winged minstrels of the summer, 



Idle vagrants of a day. 

 Share and welcome, foe and lover, 



Nature turns no guest away! 



-ELLA F. MOSBY. 



128 



