Mbere the fB>ocMnG==birt) SiUQe 



TTOUR sylvan archer must have his 

 JL lounging days and his days of idle 

 wandering, when, free and easy, quite out 

 of sympathy with his tackle, he seeks after 

 romance as it exists in the haunts of the 

 birds. He cannot be a savage for a great 

 while without feeling satiated. Even the 

 music of his longbow fails to charm him, 

 and he has no taste for its arrow's thrilling 

 diminuendo, or for the stroke of a success- 

 ful shot. 



One thing you may bear in mind, how- 

 ever, to wit, that this same archer, no 

 matter where he lounges or where he 

 wanders, will have his ancient weapons at 

 hand. Cloyed for the time, glad of a 

 change from reality to dreams, he yet, out 

 of habit, keeps in touch with his tackle and 

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