The Press., 1890-11-27

dag h0AVoS Ill S1gnII You need not WOf. " about him, for he has the quiet of a genuine hunter, and his love of the forest IS an old-time failing.
 A little later on another joins the com pany. His physique is not very large, but is well put together, and is made of good material. He is every inch g hunter. Show him a good deer and see what he
 will do. His blood is a little hot Maybe
 he will be generous to the 'scervine fami. l ly," and postpone the spoil that is sure to
 be at his feet. He is bundle of. good na- lture. and his face is always missed at the Itable. If he gets his deer the welkin will
 ring. Who does not hope that his anbi.
 tions will not end in starting and counting
 the denizens of the forest?
 l One other forester completes the group
 He acts like boy. Gall him by his first
 name. guess it will suit him best Evi dently he has long looked forward to this day, for his trunk is filled with the etcet-
 eras of forestry. He is trying to slet p
 away the journey, for he cares little for the
 sights along the highway. Evidently he
 has left all care behind, and when his rifle
 is in his hand feels all ready for one world
 at least. Don't poster him about his dress,
 or about getting home early at nightfall.
 The only time he is still is after the ;lighte
 are blown out, and then you have'no trou-
 ble in hearing him.
 No wonder such party have good
 time. How can they help it? On speeds the train to Palmer and Boston. Here, in the latter place, we must await the even- ing train, so we will arrange our. baggage,
 then stroll into the s'common, and inspect
 the floral flags that are borne by the pa ) triot dead.
 ;I Only beauty smiles at us, seated on hel
 throne of flowers. How little can the ], child of to-day realize the ''blood and
 treasure with which Columbus washed , the foul spots of treason from the nations l flag. Let the gasp of the dying soldier
 the shriek of the untimely widow, and tn. plaintive call of fatherless children hnge } in the halls of history, and form the vigih of undying patriotism.
 : But the night has arrived, and with Vul ] cans torch let us steal march on Maine 5 Try the sleeping car, ladies. You may no 7 rest any better, but 1t will be more tony, , and you will not surprise your friends wh.
 inquire after your mode of travelling. In the morning alight at Bar Harbor s How it nestles like a white gull on th
 rocky sides of Mt. Deseftl How tn ei sheen of gold creeps forth to View at lh 3 window of palaces, and the dainty ''buck | board" What luxury reposes along tn : tidy thoroughfares and the embowere' Q lawns. Over all the bald and beetlina 3 brow of Mt. Desert looks down in stateE ? pride upon her silver and emerald bui
 tons that fasten her rigid mantle about he l, wave-washed feet. Ruth, is the sight to 2 dazzling for you? If SO, wrap it up in ] storm cloud, bespatter it with rain an' e mud, shut your eyes and keep in the de ] pot. Sometimes our joys are too great ' |. be uttered. The memory of those hour e is like wormwood poured out. Helen an, + Georgie, you need not laugh so inside tha s hack, for you will have to do this thing al [, over again on our return, and you hay $ DO such dark background to bring out tn j. colors of the enchanting picture. Ste T aboard the boat, for Neptune must trans . port us to Machiasport. But "ebon g night" has turned traitor, and two crue g ties lie at her door. First the boat is hall C ed by the darkness and the drizzly rain . then the beautiful coast-line is hidden frol ( eager eyes. Never mind, somebody ha J appeared to tighten the journey. An, it i !, woman whose mission it is to dispel tn i "blues." "Marcius, what is the matte r with you? What makes you down in th . mouth ?" What, have you no thanks fo G such disinterested kindness? Edgar trie t to spin some yarn of the bygone, but h :. makes poor headway till this same benig 8 helper finishes the recital with few mas