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AMATEUR PHOTO BY GEO. Q. CANTWELL. 



WHITE MOUNTAIN SHEEP FROM UPPER KLONDYKE. 



after my hat; but that is another story. 

 This bear was a monster, and dressed 

 about 800 pounds. We traveled all night 

 in the rain to reach the mine, and the boys 

 of that camp were made happy by a feast 

 of fresh meat. 



On this trip I used a 6 shooter, with 

 long barrel and easy trigger, and shooting 



Winchester .44, smokeless powder and 

 hard bullet. There is an ignorant class on 

 one side of a pistol, and a disreputable one 

 on the other, who think that the only pur- 

 pose for which it was made is to kill their 

 fellow men; but old mountaineers gener- 

 ally realize in it the best and handiest 

 game gun in use. 



AN IDLE FANCY. 



CANDICE BRAMBLE. 



In a country lane where the trees o'erlace 

 And the ferns grow tall in a shady place ; 

 Where the choral choir joyous anthems 

 sing 

 And the flags to the breeze their banners 

 fling; 

 There a tale of love was one day told 

 To a shy briar rose, with a heart of 

 gold. 



The alder tall bends his stately head 

 O'er the fair faced flower in her gown of 

 red; 

 And the sunbeams glint, where the breezes 

 sweet 

 Cast spicy petals around their feet; 

 While he tells his tale with a stately grace 

 To the shy briar rose with her blushing 

 face. 



But though summer days are so passing 

 sweet, 



They haste away upon flying feet; 

 And today, as I walk in the forest lane, 



I look for the lovers, but look in vain. 

 For the alder tall and the wild rose red, 



Alike with the summer days, are dead. 



Tommy. — "I am sure papa is dreaming 

 about the seashore." 



Mamma. — "Why do you think so, 

 Tommy?" 



Tommy. — "Because he snores just like 

 the surf." — Judge. 



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