COMING HOME. 



277 



COMING HOME. 



FRANK FARRINGTON. 



The hunt is ended, daylight fades, 



The last faint flush has turned to gray, 



And wearily home through the deepening 

 shades 

 The boat swings into the lower bay. 



There's a ribbon of silver far astern, 



The pines cast shadows long and dim, 

 There's a murmur low from the whispering 

 trees, 

 As mothers croon some good-night 

 hymn. 



On the further shore is a warm red glow, 

 And I know the welcome that waits for 

 me: 



Ah! the joy of living I shall know 



In the night and silence alone with thee. 











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AMATEUR PHOTO BY G C. EMBODY 



ROUGH WALKING. 



Winner of 47th prize in Recreation's 4th Annual 

 Photo Competition. 



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AMATEUR PHOTO BY F E. MATHEWSON 



FUTURE DEWEYS. 

 Winner of 48th prize in Recreation's 4th Annual Photo Competition, 



