AMERICA'S GREATEST PLAYGROUND 



37 



Reflection. Waterton Lake, Glacier Park 



In that hole beneath the fall — 

 Gosh ! This desk is sure some prison ! 



Lordy! But that creek does call! 

 But of course I do not heed it, 



Business first always my code. 

 Back I turn to dusty text-books, 



But I see the old creek road. 



Temp 



At 3:30 came a client. 



Read the notice on the door, 

 "Out of town all day on business. 



Back tomorrow, about 4." —JOHN S. PYLE. 



tdtion ^® lived under a rock in the shelving bank of the 

 brook and took his exercises in the pool below the 



falls where the branches hung so low over the water that they caught 

 your line when you drew back for a cast. 



Early one morning you waded down stream, careful to keep your 

 shadow off the water, and there he was — apparently waiting for you 

 and passing the time by gathering in any incautious bug that dropped 

 from the leaves above. 



All your fisherman's skill came into play as you made your cast 

 and whipped the fly invitingly above his indifferent nose. But it was 

 no new game to that old peacock of the pool. He could and did play^ 

 it as patiently and skillfully as you, until that irresistible tuft of red 

 feathers came floating so temptingly close, and then — but you are the 

 one to tell the rest of that story. 



