BEAUTIFUL SCENE. 
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and gathered great bunches of roses and peonies ; 
some wandered thoughtfully along the strand, 
thinking possibly of home and Polly ; one, gun in 
hand, dived among the oak-woods, intent on game ; 
and one, sweeping-net aloft, waded gleefully among 
the flowers. Just as the sun was declining, and all 
were thinking of going on board, a form approached 
from across the plain, like amorous Falstaff at 
Herne's old oak, huge antlers branching out 
above his head, a vasculum, cram-full of plants, 
across his back, and in each hand blushing 
floral trophies. It was Wilford of the seven- 
♦ 
league boots," who had found the cervine relic in 
the woods. 
One day I was sauntering along a path, winding, 
narrow, and irregular, by the side of a rocky gully 
in Tsu-Sima, an island in the Korea Strait. The 
scene around me was very beautiful. . The gurgling 
water rolled clear and sparkling over its stony bed, 
except where a big boulder checked its even course, 
when a deep pool was formed, where little trout-like 
fish calmly disported themselves. The sides of the 
o 
