LUCK TO THE HUNTER. aay II 
cared for through a more or less prolonged 
period, but have had to be disposed of or 
killed in the end. 
I am not sure, now, whether it was not 
a performance of our lamented Mishka, 
while living at Mr. A’s, to teach turkeys 
swimming; and when the stupid things 
would not learn to swim, and scrambled 
out of the water on to the bank, clamoring 
their “ Bother-other-otheration,”. to twist | 
their necks for them, and to lay them out © 
on the bank with a view to artistic effect. | 
If not his doing, it was the trick of a cub 
I have been told about. 

BUCK TO THE HUNTER: 
MAUDE M. HUEY. 
A glorious morning, glittering jewels 
On blade and vine, 
Frost-drawn scents from spruce and cedar 
Hemlock and pine. 
Wind of the hillsides fanning to fullness 
The hunter’s breath; 
Snow enough to further his purpose 
Soft on the heath. 
Sapphire skies, and a sun of splendor 
Over the wood. 
Morn of wonder! Ah! but the all wise 
God is good. 
Hark! A sound in the dead twigs yonder, 
A timid stir. 
Luck to the hunter! 
A bunch of fur. 
A hare! Ah! Steady! The hounds are 
after ! 
Be ready to fire! 
See! In the bushes 
Wildly plunging, their red jaws dripping 
With their desire. 
Will they find him? 
boulder 
With beating heart? 
A quivering thing with wild eyes bulging 
And ears apart. 
Crouching close to a 
Yes! They are close! Ah! Now make 
ready! 
Away! Away! 
Following, following; faster, faster, 
A streak of gray. 
Do they have him? 
A flash, a sound, 
And a helpless form lies bleeding, quiv- 
ering, 
Flat on the ground. 
Eyes all glazed with the pain of dying 
Turned on the wood. 
Luck to the hunter! Ah! but the all wise 
God is good, 
No. A moment only, 

MISS MARY CONANT, ON LADY LOU; RECREATION 
AMATEUR PHOTO BY C. B. CHAPIN 
AND SPORT FOLLOWING. 
