Ill 



THE HOME FIRESIDE 



Weeks ago the camp-fire shed its last 

 glow in the deserted camp, its last thin 

 thread of smoke was spun out and van- 

 ished in the silent air, and black brands 

 and gray ashes were covered in the even 

 whiteness of the snow. The unscared 

 fox prowls above them in curious ex- 

 ploration of the desolate shanty, where 

 wood-mice are domiciled and to whose 

 sunny side the partridge comes to bask ; 

 the woodpecker taps unbidden to enter 

 or departs from the always open door; 

 and under the stars that glitter through 

 the net of branches the owl perches on 

 the snowy ridge and mopes in undis- 

 turbed solemnity. 



For a time, camping-days are over 

 for the sportsman, and continue only for 

 the lumberman, the trapper, and the 

 merciless crust-hunter, who makes his 

 secret lair in the depths of the foresto 

 13 



