OveR THE TRAPPING LINE. 

Near this camping runs the streamlet, 
All sparkling in the sun to-day, 
With deeper pools and larger troutlet ; 
Here cronies while an hour away. 
In quiet, and watching for a deer, 
Neither seem in haste to move on, 
Until a cronie speaks out clear, 
‘* Let’s to the lake and have the luncheon!” 
‘¢ Agreed!” a cronie answers; ‘‘ stride! 
To the inlet, then the lakeside ; 
Then to the little mountain brookside, 
Where the view is far and wide.” 
Soon they reach the mossy land, 
Leave behind the birchen timber ; 
Peeping through they see the bend, 
See the water’s sunny shimmer. 
Here they find their birch canoe 
Turned from wet and in the shade, 
Safely hidden from all view 
Beneath the trees beside the glade. 
Down the inlet now they glide, 
With delight they make the change, 
For cronies love the waters wide 
As they love the hills to range. 
Down by the quiet, drooping larches 
Past the sandy, grassy islands ; 
Past the leaning arbor-vites, 
To the lakeshore’s points and sands 
