AN APOSTROPHE TO MY CANOE. 
R. R. KIRK. 
White Princess, over glistening wake Now lingering in the inviting shade, 
And brave appointed fish, and all Now swiftly following fancy’s flight; 
Swift moving things, which in thy wake Impatient to obey the blade, 
Flash and follow, mount and fall! Imperious urger, day or night; 
O lithe craft, most fair art thou, O, swift and sweet art thou, Canoe! 
Wherever water passes prow! On many a rivulet proven true. 
Where water swiftest runs, and cool, Of lightest cedar sawn; by deft 
Where willows bend above the stream, Skilled fingers shaped, and truly made 
Where fishes leap from darkening pool, Complete and beautiful; bereft 
Thy whiteness and thy jewels gleam! Of all unloveliness, and arrayed 
Akin to running streams art thou, Befittingly art thou, Canoe, 
O fairest boat, with stateliest prow! Who builded better than they knew. 
For wast thou not a spirit first, 
Ere yet they made for thee this shell? 
I know for waters thou dost thirst, 
Where plash of fish is heard, where 
dwell 
Wild creatures,—even as I who now 
With dripping blade guide thy swift prow. 
One of the novelists, referring to his 
hero, says: 
His countenance fell. 
His voice broke. 
His heart sank. 
His hair rose. 
His eyes blazed. 
His words burned. 
His blood froze. 
It appears, however, that he was able to 
pull himself together and marry the girl 
in the last chapter.—Exchange. 

“Yes, we’re going to be married.” 
“Have you proposed ?” 
“No, not yet.” 
“Then how do you know she'll have 
you?” 
“Why, she’s been encouraging me to save 
money instead of buying flowers and the- 
ater tickets.”—Chicago Evening Post. 
There was an old monarch in Thibet, 
Skirt dancing he tried to prohibit; 

AMATEUR PHOTO BY C M. WHITNEY. His rule was so strict, 
I’M BUSY. If any one kicked 
Winner of s2nd_ prize in Recreation’s 8th He ordered her hanged on a gibbet. 
Annual Phcto Competition. —Life. 
422 
