In Winter Quarters 



seem to be dwelling together in unity, 

 each adapting itself to the other, 

 blending splendidly into one harmo- 

 nious entity. A family group bound 

 together below, and interlacing their 

 lives up to the very topmost branches, 

 I suppose they have their arguments 

 and little jars both in the ground and 

 in the air, but clearly in their union is 

 their strength. Alexander Hamilton 

 could not have made a better job of 

 it. 



Darkness settles early these Decem- 

 ber days, and there will be ice to- 

 morrow where those shallow pools 

 have been today. The creatures of the 

 open will know tonight what Keats 

 was talking about on St. Agnes' eve: 



"Ah! Bitter chill it was; 

 The owl for all his feathers was a-cold, 

 The hare leaped trembling through the 



frozen grass, 

 And silent was the flock in fleecy fold." 



This is the opening of the trapping 

 season, and unless the statutes new 



