A GAME FOR TWO. 



ESTELLE FOREMAN. 



He. 



We were sitting the dance out together, 



There were some things I wanted to say; 

 There are trifles that bother a fellow, 



On vacation's last day. 

 We had boated and golfed — and flirted, 



While the summer crept on its way; 

 She had sung to me tenderest love songs, 



While my banjo kept time with its play. 



Those things are part of a summer, 



But they make a fellow feel small, 

 When he thinks of the girl he's to marry, 



" Some time in the fall." 

 And I wonder how I can tell her; 



Which brings with it, the thought, 

 That Life's greatest pleasures. 



Appear those dearest bought. 



It seems such a stupid proceeding, 



As we sit here on the stair; 

 To flirt with a girl a whole summer, 



Then tell her vou haven't been fair. 



How under the sun, shall, I tell her; 



I hope she won't take it to heart; 

 That's the way with these confounded 

 places, 



There's always some fuss when you part. 



She. 



How glad I am he is going, 



He was getting to be such a bore. 

 Even flirting will sometimes get stupid, 



I couldn't have stood any more. 

 Then Ted's coming to-morrow, 



What on earth would I do with him then, 

 And besides I wanted so badly to wear, 



My engagement ring again. 



I suppose I ought to tell him, 



I hope he won't make a scene, 

 And say I'm a flirt, and a heartless coquette. 



There's no telling what men do mean. 

 It really- has been a nice summer, 



He is almost as nice as Ted; 

 Then she stifled a yawn, and wondered, 



How soon his good-byes would be said. 



STONEY LAKE. 



ARCHER. 



Beautiful lake that mirrors so bright, 

 The flush of dawn and the evening light, 

 Islands, like gems on thy bosom rest, 

 Emblems of love there serene and blest. 

 Floating about on thy waves so clear 

 Peace like a dove seems hovering near; 

 Away from the rush and eager strife 

 Of the busy haunts of human life; 

 Away from the eager thirst for gold, 

 From greed in its phases manifold; 

 From pride and passion and narrow creed, 

 From disregard of another's need; 

 Where the heart's affections quickly die, 

 And the careless throng pass the thought- 

 ful by; 

 Here where the spirit with joy imbued 

 May feel the calm of the solitude. 

 Thro' rocky ways on thy Western shore, 

 The roaring rivers their tribute pour; 

 Wildly they rush as they seek for rest, 

 In the crystal depths of thy tranquil breast; 



Like the streams of life that so swiftly flee, 

 And seek for rest in the eternal sea. 

 Softly the breezes of heaven sweep 

 Their ruffling wings o'er thy waters deep; 

 Gleaming in crimson and golden light 

 The sunset clouds are reflected bright; 

 Shadowed each isle with its plumes of 



green 

 Each rock and branch and spray is seen, 

 In the crystal flood like a mirror bright, 

 In the wondrous charm of the evening 



light. 

 Here the wild Indians in native pride, 

 In the light canoes o'er the waters gjide, 

 Seeking the deer as they come to drink 

 The waters clear from thy rocky brink; 

 And here the wings of the Great Spirit 



brood 

 O'er the savage's soul in the solitude; 

 Lake of rare beauty, mirror of light, 

 Long may the memory of thee be bright. 



