56 Recreations of a Sportsman 



other forms bodies of men, ghostly platoons 

 marching on and on, to be dissipated by a heavy 

 sea that broke and piled upon a rocky shore. 

 Then he seemed to be submerged and swept away. 



He finally fell asleep and was awakened by 

 the crying of the child. Sunlight was stream- 

 ing down into the canon, illumining the white 

 tufted trees, like a benediction. He lighted the 

 alcohol lamp, and in prying the wooden stopper 

 with which the milk can had been plugged, he 

 found that the contents had partly disappeared. 

 For some reason the discovery did not discourage 

 him. He was dazed by fatigue. The child was 

 fretful and continued its crying. Unable to stop 

 its plaintive wail, he braced it against a rock 

 so that the sun did not shine into its face, pink 

 against the fur and surrounding snow, and began 

 to talk to it. 



" Say, look here, kid, there ain't nothin' the 

 matter with you ; you 're all right. What you 

 kickin' about, grub? Three times a day an' 

 twict a night, an' plenty of it ; yes, you bet there 

 is. An' won't we paint the town a sky-blue 

 alabaster pink when we reach milk? Oh, no, 

 perhaps we won't." 



But the baby cried on. 



" Don't you worry, kid," he began again ; 

 " we 're goin' to get through, an' don't you for- 

 get it. We 're on Easy Street, an' Grubville 's 

 at the end of the lane," and Clancy threw his 



