blue sky, the air now soft, now fierce, 

 but always caressing, and everywhere 

 bright flowers on fence and tree and 

 house, a riot of brilliant blooms 

 especially that mass of scarlet gerani- 

 ums at the station blazing its name 

 in welcome or goodbye to all who 

 passed. In the berth above, I could 

 hear the turnings and squirmings 

 of Nimrod, who was performing his 

 sleeping car penance. 



"Look out, they 're coming!" 

 It was a gentle whisper from above. 



"What is it? Oh" and my 

 sleepy gaze fastened on a ghostly 

 hand descending within the line of 

 vision. It held a black object which 

 fell to the floor with a thud; an- 

 other followed. The porter would 

 know what to do with them. 



I suppose we really walked in the 

 trail of good luck when we visited 

 the Grand Canon, for we saw in 

 its most curious phase, that mightiest 

 gash of a mighty river in its immen- 

 sity and beauty, suddenly roll wonder 

 on wonder before us , as though the 

 whole world were striving then and 

 there to empty its coffers in one 

 glorious offering at the feet of God! 



