n8 Up the Creek 



Our minds are not so receptive as when we 

 started. How shrunken to a few rods is 

 every mile ! Trees, flowers, and birds are 

 scarcely heeded; but the good gathered as 

 we went up the creek we bring away, and, 

 once again in the dusty village street, we 

 realize that we have but to turn our back 

 upon the town to find the world a picture. 



