12 



RECREATION. 



self waited on by a deputation of 2 law- 

 yers from the camp. They immediately 

 proceeded to question and cross-question 

 me concerning the events of the previous 

 night. Finally the most distinguished of 

 the legal twain announced that while our 

 stories dovetailed, it was the sense of the 

 camp that there was no truth in our words. 

 "Personally," said he, "in my long expe- 

 rience in practice I have learned that the 

 bench is entirely unworthy of the confi- 

 dence of an honest lawyer, therefore the 

 Judge is lying, and his co-conspirator, 

 while a professed total abstainer, probably 

 imbibed surreptitiously from his wife's 

 medicine bottle and was just drunk." 



After returning to my desk, I began to 

 tell the thumping story to other friends. 



There was little variation in the manner of 

 its reception. One would listen quietly, 

 smile and talk about the weather ; another 

 would say, "That's pretty good, but I am 

 somewhat of a romancer myself." 



When finally I found myself frequently 

 invited to recount my tale, I began to avoid 

 the subject. In a month I had acquired a 

 reputation as a liar which required years 

 to live down, and I became known as the 

 fisherman around whom bass flocked at his 

 call and jumped into his creel. 



Time has cast the veil of charity over my 

 tarnished reputation for veracity, and I tell 

 the story once more. Perhaps some reader 

 may be able, from his own experience, to 

 bear witness that bass can be thumped. 



THE TRUTHFUL ANGLER. 



F. THOMPSON. 



There was a man in our town and he was 



wondrous wise. 

 He caught a trout, weighed 11 pounds; it 



was a great surprise. 

 This man he told the truth when asked; 



A CALIFORNIA IDLER. 



ERNEST MCGAFFEY. 



A road runner dodged in the chaparral 

 As a coin will slip from the hands of a 

 wizard, 

 A black wasp droned by his sun baked cell, 

 While flat on a stone lay a Nile green 

 lizard, 

 And a wolf in a rift of a sycamore 

 Sat gray as a monk at the mission door. 



A sage hen scratched 'mong the cactus 

 spike 

 And high in the sky was the noon sun's 

 glamour, 

 While steady as ever rose anvil strike 



Came the rat-tat-tat of a yellow hammer, 

 And a shy quail lowered his crested head 

 To the dust lined sweep of a dry creek's 

 bed. 



And out of the earth a tarantula crept 

 On his hairy legs to the road's white 

 level, 

 With eyes where a demon's malice slept 

 And the general air of an unchained 

 devil ; 

 While a rattlesnake by the dusty trail 

 tilfxJpy l\ L a y coiled in a mat of mottled scale. 



f* 



r 



He'd say, "It weig 

 Unlike the man in 

 This man he went 

 Now my advice to 

 young as well, 

 Is, tell the truth an 

 And thus keep out 



Then the gray wolf sprang on the sage hen 

 there. 

 And the lizard snapped at the wasp and 

 caught him, 

 While the spider fled to his sheltered lair 

 As though a shadowy foeman sought 

 him, 



fishermen, both old and And the road runner slipped from the way- 

 side brake 

 d shun the D, And stuck his beak through the rattlesnake, 



of . — Exchange. 



hed just 11." 

 Glenwood now, 

 to heaven 



