274 



RECREA TION. 



Life is sweet to the vilest; hope springs 

 while it lasts. " Perhaps it was accident, 

 only," that his trail had been struck in the 

 hunting; and it was this that resolved him 

 to heed a voice which said: 



"'To a tree, for your life! You'll be torn 

 by the hounds! " 



Quickly the howling pack was lashed 

 into submission and quiet. 



" Surrender, you scoundrel! " came the 

 command, revealing that hope was a fable, 

 mercy unknown, and transforming the 

 trembling outcast into a stock that was 

 sodden and senseless. 



"To be fed to your dogs?" was the 

 answer. 



"Come down!" repeated the solemn 

 command, disdainful of parley, but the 

 wretch only tightened his grasp on the 

 branches. 



There was an ominous clicking of locks 

 and a gleaming of steel in the sunlight. 



" Mercy! " shrieked the craven; but the 

 answer came from the guns. A thud, and 

 a scrambling of dogs for the carcass. 



" Gentlemen, justice is done; drive off 

 the dogs. We have no wish to be butch- 

 ers." 



" But the wretch is not dead," said an- 

 other, " a pity 'tis true, for now we are 

 forced to hang him like Haman." 



"Mercy, mercy!" again moaned the 

 doomed. " Give me trial by law, for God's 

 sake! " 



" Mercy? Yes; the mercy you showed 

 that defenseless old woman;" answered 



the nocse-maker, adjusting the rope to the 

 murderer's neck." 



" Then, hold! This is not the place for 

 the hanging. Take him back to the scene 

 of his crime, there to fulfill the sternest 

 measure of justice," demanded a voice that 



was heeded. 



* * * 



After supper that night, as they were 

 smoking together on the veranda, the 

 stranger questioned his host concerning the 

 chase of the morning. 



"Poor sport," said the landlord; "but 

 the doves in our dove-cotes shall not be 

 molested! " 



"Do you mean that your pigeons are 

 troubled by foxes? But what is that light 

 in the South? Another fire in your village? 

 Let us go; and I hope not to find that the 

 crime of last night is repeated." 



" It were best to remain where you are," 

 said the landlord, in accents that forbade 

 further question and silenced reply. 



Where the ruins of old Sally's cottage 

 were standing, at sun-down, there was 

 naught but an ash-heap at day-break; and 

 a body was found in the ruins, so blackened 

 and chat red as scarce to suggest that once 

 it was human. 



A coroner's jury viewed the remains. 

 The verdict was simple: 



" How he came to his death, at whose 

 hands, and the name of the man are all un- 

 known to the jury." 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY E. C. RIVERS. 



THE TUG OF WAR. 



"CHARGE PADDY. " 

 From a photo kindly loaned by Dr. F. D. Sanford. 



"What's the' matter with Blum? I hear 

 that alarm clock of his go off half a dozen 

 times between 10 at night and 10 in the 

 morning? " 



" He's troubled with insomnia, and every 

 time the alarm sounds he can roll right 

 over and go to sleep." — Detroit Free Press. 



