THE MYSTERY OE THE BLUE GOOSE 



517 



Then, like a coyote, I slunk silently 

 away and consoled myself with the 

 thought that I had seen the death of the 

 antelope even if I did miss again seeing 

 the "Wild Hunter" "collar his game/' 

 as Big Pete would have called the act 



of securing it. Besides this I had had 

 a real exciting adventure with good, 

 red-blooded American animals and 

 learned the lesson that large, horned 

 beasts which have not been taught to 

 fear man are exceedingly dangerous. 



(To be continued.) 



A QUIET SUNDAY 



Photo by Jos. H. Bergen 



SEEIN' H 



By JOHN JORDAN 



Dey trabbles eb'ry da'k night 



In de dribble uv de rain, 



An' you' better git ter runnin' 



At de rattle uv dey chain ; 



'Kase dey's sho'ly gwiner ketch you' 



Ef yo' sets down in dey way — 



An' who den's gwiner fetch yo' 



F'um de reguns whar dey stay? 



A'NTS 



DOUGLASS 



Wen dey rises f'um de grabe-ya'd 

 In dey big write sheets, 

 Dis nigger sho'ly shuffles 

 Wid 'is long, light feets ; 

 Kase dey nebber ain't no tellin' 

 Des w'at dey 's gwiner do — 

 An v de time ter 'mence yo' yellin' 

 'S w'en de race am safely froo. 



