RECREATION. 



301 



camp, on the lake, and every one of 

 them was talking incessantly. Another 

 morning eight loons met near the cen- 

 tre of the lake. They kept up a pro- 

 digious clatter of voices, until they 

 separated and retired towards the 

 shores. We never pointed our rifles at 

 them. We much preferred to have 

 them on visiting terms with us. 



Large hawks and small hawks were 

 numerous, and sailed in wide circles 

 over us. They doubtless preyed on 

 our smaller feathered friends, and would 

 gladly have dispatched them, but they 

 seldom gave us a chance for a shot. 



One evening, about sunset, as I was 

 returning in my canoe from the even- 

 ing fly fishing, I spied a fat, hearty look- 

 ing beaver in front of the canoe. He 



had pulled up the root of a water plant, 

 and it lay exposed on the surface of 

 the water. On my approach he swam 

 gracefully away, his flat, black tail 

 stretched out behind him on the lake. 

 We followed him, with soft stroke of 

 the paddle, until he glided in among 

 some low bushes that fringed the 

 shore. 



Brook trout ! What shall I say of 

 them ? The lake was full of them. We 

 took them by the hundreds, and ate 

 them for breakfast, dinner and supper. 

 They never criticised our flies, as to 

 color, size, or form of hook. With them 

 a fly was a fly, although from long ex- 

 perience on the Canadian lakes, we did, 

 perhaps, offer them what we were sure 

 they would like. 



HUCKLEBERRIES OR FISH? 

 Frank H. Sweet. 



" Oh, now, ma, it's awful hot ! 



I'd jest soon ter go 's not, 

 Only — I don't — feel 't my best, 

 'JM' I thought I'd go 'n' rest 



'Side ther brook — 'N', oh, say, ma! 

 They 'm bitin' like all p'sess't ; 

 'N' 'taint far, 

 'N' if ye'll only let me go 

 I'n git 'n awful sight I know." 



