266 



RECREATION. 



the feathers being smoothed over the 

 aperture, making a novel storehouse, and 

 that without injuring the skins. Half a 

 dozen hard working chipmunks, the au- 

 thors of the outrage, with their cheek 

 pouches full of peas peered at me from 

 the rafters. 



The hibernating period of this species 

 is short on account of the comparative ab- 

 sence of winter weather in its habitat. I 



have seen it as late as early December. It 

 generally leaves its winter quarters in Feb- 

 ruary, though not until the snow has dis- 

 appeared and the weather grown settled 

 and warm. In that respect it differs from 

 its smaller relatives, which often appear be- 

 fore the first robin has shown up in the 

 spring and while the snow is still deep on 

 the ground. 



AMATEIW PHOTO B < MRS. G H. FOSTER. 



BUT HE GOT AWAY. 



THE EDITOR'S REWARD. 



MYRA EMMONS. 



An editor dreamed, at the close of day, 

 He had gone aloft, Saint Peter's way; 

 And the good Saint gravely shook his 



head 

 As the editor's record he slowly read. 



"There's many a deed on the debit side 

 Of anger black and stubborn pride. 

 Many a bitter fight you've waged, 

 Many a storm in your heart has raged." 



St. Peter paused with a thoughtful frown, 

 When, over the parapet looking down, 

 His clear eyes saw, as to earth he gazed, 

 A kneeling group, with their arms up- 

 raised. 



There were Jean and Rugie, Kate and Til- 

 lie, 

 Louise and Maude, Alice and Willie; 

 Helen, Viola, Zelle and Grace, 

 Gertrude, Mary, and Beatrice. 



There were many others, and last of them 

 Was one who was known on earth as the 



Em. 

 With arms uplifted and tear-filled eyes, 

 They knelt at the throne of grace with 



sighs. 



"Mr. Nevergo," the young woman said, 

 suppressing a yawn, "when the business of 

 a meeting is ended what is the parliamen- 

 tary form for bringing the proceedings to 

 a close?" 



"Somebody moves that the meeting ad- 

 journ," replied the young man, "and 

 then " 



"Well, if you'll move," she interrupted, 

 "we'll adjourn." — Chicago Tribune. 



"Forgive him all, dear Saint," they cried, 

 "For the good he did on the other side; 

 For the play spells he gave us, the count- 

 less ways 

 In which he brightened our earthly days." 



Saint Peter turned, and his face grew mild; 

 He looked at the editor man and smiled. 

 "My son," he said, "go up on high; 

 The good you have done can never die." 



