68 



WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 



game, our boat, and our hunting outfit. We leave all 

 but the guns here till morning, too tired to be encum- 

 bered with anything but them. Our weary limbs are 

 dragged homeward. The blinds are opened ; a light 

 shines brightly at the window. It signifies nothing to 

 the casual passer-by, but to us it is a telegram, notify- 

 ing us that a warm supper and loving hearts are anxious- 

 ly awaiting our return. Our step on the walk is soft 

 and low, but not soft enough nor low enough to deceive 

 him who waits the coming of his master. A joyous 

 bark announces our arrival, and we feel 



" 'Tis sweet to hear the watch dog's honest bark, 

 Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home." 



