EVENING AT PAUL'S. 113 



and linen, only tlR'ir JMown faces revealing to you that they 

 are genuine sportsmen. 



Meanwhile, the long, broad veranda is crowded willi 

 easy chairs, and the fragrant Havana niingkfs its perfume 

 with the aroma of balsam and spruce and pine floating ever 

 in over the cooling waters of the St. Regis. Here is a knot 

 of respectful and credulous listeners assembled around a 

 lotund and enthusiastic Doctor of Divinity from New York, 

 who is telling fishing stories that draw heavily upon tlie 

 faith of his hearers, and of deer-himts in which he figured 

 as the hero, out-Murraying ^furray. But it is vastly inter- 

 esting, for the learned Doctor tells a story well, and you 

 choose to l)elieve that In' is essentially telling tin- honest 

 truth, — as his memory sees it. 



Other knots of men aie gathered all along the veranda, 

 and their talk is of tlu' woods and lakes and stieanis, of 

 trout and deer. 



On the grass in front, is a jolly guide playing with a lit- 

 tle child, tossing it up, rolling,' it over on the turf, laughing, 

 and as happy as a fond papa can be; and well he may be 

 happy, for he has this evening just returned with two tour 

 ists, after eleven days' absence, during which he has made 

 the grand circuit to John Brown's Tract l)y one chain of 

 lakes and streams, and returned by another. His wife and 

 a baby, and the end of his hard trii>, have given him joy 

 enough to-night to make u}) for many a backache on the 

 long carries. 



At? teii o'clock every body goes to bed. It is both the 

 fashion and the inclination. 



