3o6 



RECREATION. 



know me if we should ever meet again, but 

 the third man, who seemed the leader, al- 

 though saying and doing little, objected 

 strenuously to this. He said: 



" 'No Andrew, I know you too well. 

 You would be likely to shoot too low, and 

 do something you would always regret. 

 You know that at King and Bartlett we 

 have prided ourselves on upholding the 

 game laws, and to-day is no time to begin 

 doing differently. Perhaps it will clear by 



to-morrow, and if it should we will return 

 and give Mr. Moose another sitting.' 



"They soon went away, but so did the 

 snow. That thaw was the beginning of the 

 breaking up of winter. The next day the 

 crust was soft and mushy, soon all the low- 

 lands were afloat, and it was many weeks 

 before I was again disturbed by man. 



"What do you say to our having a lunch 

 and then taking a nap? There's some ex- 

 cellent tender moosewood over this way, 

 let's go and strip a little." 



OLD ROVE. 



IDA A. GRAVES. 



They were seated round the fireplace, on a 



rainy afternoon, 

 Talking of the hunting season that was 



coming very soon, 



When the door was opened softly, and a 

 well known form .appeared, 



'Twas the Captain, so they called him; 

 one that all of them revered. 



He was given warmest greeting, for they 



loved this hunter well 

 For his quiet, kindly manner and the stories 



he could tell; 



But this evening he was silent when they 

 pressed him for a tale, 



And the more observing 'mong them no- 

 ticed that his face was pale. 



Then one ventured the suggestion that 

 "Perhaps his traps was stole," 



And another, "Had some loafer swiped his 

 new cane fishing pole?" 



Or had some one "'bused his Rover, run 



him off to hunt awhile?" 

 Thus the jokes and lively banter, but the 



hunter did not smile. 



They regretted soon their jesting, for he 

 raised his head and spoke ; 



And they saw 'twas with an effort, for his 

 voice was strained, and broke. 



"Boys," he sadly said, "I've shot him ! Shot 

 my good, old, faithful Rove !" 



Now his tears were softly falling, though 

 to check them hard he strove. 



"And I tell you, boys, I shook so I could 



hardly hold my gun, 

 For to shoot my faithful Rover was the 



hardest work I've done. 



"I have had Rove since a puppy, and I 



knew what he would do ; 

 He has been my stanch companion, ever 



trust)-, fond and true. 



"In the stormiest winter weather, though 

 he might be tired and lame, 



He has never once deserted; he was always 

 just the same. 



"Never in the years I've had him has he left 



and gone home first ; 

 Often have we lunched together, at the 



same stream quenched our thirst. 



"But at last age crept upon him, and he 



grew dull, stiff, and lame ; 

 And though I still took him hunting, he 



could scarcely see the game; 



"So I thought 'twere surely better that his 



sufferings should cease, 

 And that from his growing weakness he 



should find a quick release. 



"Tears ? Ah, yes ! I couldn't stay them, for 



I felt a crushing grief; 

 Though when he was dead — poor Rover — I 



could only feel relief. 



"And I wonder when the angels come, my 



spirit home to send, 

 If they'll find me as my dog was, faithful 



even to the end?" 



