m^ Mtntet 0art)en 



lands are yours; what you can see you 

 hold. I claim as my heronry a marsh- 

 meadow of an extent unknown. So vast 

 is it that schooners and luggers and lum- 

 ber-tugs go through it along many bayous. 

 Sportsmen have shooting-boxes in lonely 

 spots on these waterways, where wild fowl 

 congregate temptingly. I hear the far 

 booming of guns, and with my glass see 

 puffs of pale smoke jet suddenly and then 

 drift away. 



Coming from our thick-walled Northern 

 house at Sherwood Place to the typical 

 cottage of the Creole is a change as sharp 

 as that of climate. The rooms have been 

 duly aired against our arrival, but there 

 hangs all about a musty odor; the beds 

 threaten us with mildew; the ceiling and 

 wainscoting exhale a chill; the halls and 

 chambers seem atrociously drafty from all 

 directions. Every year we experience 

 the same discomfort ; every year we duly 

 find out that it means nothing dangerous ; 

 yet, all the same, every year we feel mor- 

 tally aggrieved that our advent has not 

 been specially prepared for by the genius 

 7 



