170 



RECREATION. 



We took a walk, after having our 

 team attended to, and got five prairie 

 chickens and ten ruffed grouse, in 

 about an hour's shooting. We en- 

 joyed this so much that we almost 

 forgot our hardships and the poor 

 fare of two or three previous days. 



On returning to our new quarters we 

 found an excellent supper awaiting 

 us, to which we did ample justice. I 

 cannot say too much for the hospi- 

 tality and kindness of these people. 

 We are planning to return there for 

 a longer visit. 



Bright and early next morning 

 found us moving slowly toward the 

 railway station, where we arrived at 

 4 p. m., and boarded our train for 

 home. I hope I shall never again 

 fall into the clutches of so lazy and 

 worthless a specimen of humanity as 

 was this so-called "guide." 



A TOAST. 

 Jessie Forsyth Cline. 



They talk of their castles in Spain, 

 Of their gold-frescoed ceilings and walls. 



Where guitar and the mandolin's strain 

 Enravish the echoing halls ; 



And love has a softer refrain. 



They write of their castles in Spain, 

 Steep in poetry the eloquent pen, 



With folk-lore and tales entertain, 

 Of glances that fascinate men, 



Of lips and of eyes that enchain. 



But I covet no castle in Spain, 



Be it filled with the Orient's wealth ; 

 In our cot she and happiness reign 



And I — let us drink to her health- 

 Madeira ? Oporto ? Champagne ? 



