A CAMP-FIRE RUN WILD 



tales have been told, what joyous peals 

 of laughter rung, where now all is si- 

 lence. But no one is there to see it. 

 A crow peers down from a treetop to 

 discover what pickings he may glean, 

 and a mink steals up from the landing, 

 which bears the keelmarks of lately de- 

 parted boats, both distrustful of the old 

 silence which the place has so suddenly 

 resumed ; and a company of jays flit si- 

 lently about, wondering that there are 

 no intruders to assail with their inex- 

 haustible vocabulary. 



A puff of wind rustles among the 

 treetops, disturbing the balance of the 

 crow, then plunges downward and sets 

 aflight a scurry of dry leaves, and out 

 of the gray ashes uncoils a thread of 

 smoke and spins it off into the haze of 

 leaves and shadows. The crow flaps in 

 sudden alarm, the mink takes shelter in 

 his coign of vantage among the drift- 

 wood, and the jays raise a multitudinous 

 -clamor of discordant outcry. The dry 

 leaves alight as if by mischievous guid- 

 ance of evil purpose ' upon the dormant 

 embers, another puff of wind arouses a 

 flame that first tastes them, then licks 



