The morning call., 1893-04-23

morning hOnrs halfway between the sleep
ing and waking lines, wondering drowSlly
whether 1t be better at that moment TO turH
over or to turn out.
You remain quiesceEt for a few moments
cons idering the matter. 1t is not yet
o'clock and you are sure you would enjoy a
brief nap, but tile voices grow camOrous:
Come, come, come" they call, haste and
hurry and come TO us" and at last, unable
longer TO resist, you arise, dress, and toss
ing needful dud or two into your little
saddle-baE. You are soon at the stable, pre-
pared to ride forth in the early morning.
Not Madame but THE Future" is 20 be
your companion on this rrip-the sorry
looking, sore backed, brORen-kneed, fright
ened, half-dead bay mare whom you had
rescued four or five months ago from life
of dTudgeTy and pain as livery mack.
You think, as she is brought out. dancing,
that you wish you had taken n snap shot at
her in that earlier day. Can this be the
gaunt, brOken-hearted looking creature you
had sent home one evening after dusk be-
cause Of her appearance? How her glossy
coat shines! Her eye is bright and clear.
She arches her neck and paws impatientiy,
as you survey her, critically. 1t IS two
months since YOU last saw her, ana you
can scarcely believe your own eyes. She is
as round and sleek and trim as Madame
herself. The great projecting hip bones
have disappeared. the hollow TANKS are
filled out, the staring ibis decently covered.
Her back is entirely well and her knees are
fairly presenta ble-why, she is actually
beauty. with her graceful neck, small
head, fine, silky name and proudly carried
tail! Bravo. Future We Will ride together
to-day.
Springing lightly into the saddle yon
gather the reins, give the signal and the
impatient animal springs gladly forward.
Not so fast, my friend; 90 easy on these
hard payements-yOu've long road before
you, remember-and after few words OF
reasoning she gradually ceases bounding,
and moderates her pace 1t does not take
you long tn learn that she has not the most
distant notion of trotting, although she will
Jog fairly well, but she takes gentle canter
so light and easy that you can scarcely
catch the ring of her hoofs on the pavement,
so smooth that you would have small
difficulty, were you so disposed, in reading,
as she bears you along You smile as you
observe the pace, recalling that expressive
Kentucky phrase, the height OF compliment
tary comment on a saddle-horse, He can
canter all day in the shade of an apple
tree"
The big town clock marks $50 as you ride
BY tho City Hall. The city is still asleep
save for few early tradesmen and clerks
Fastening 10 their daily tasks, a milkman
or two making their morning rounds, and
here ana there teamSter driving his ma
jestIc, slowly trOtting team 10 work.
On you 60. softly, for quarter of an hour
or SO, until the hard pavement is left behind
and you are cantering along good dirt
ruad-oyer n bridge, spanning such a little
stream as you had heard calling you, "a laugh
ing, chattering, jolly little stream. rushing
along toward the bay, halt-hidden in the
dense green growth overhanging II. through
Golden Gate and on 10 Berkeley. You have
left the highway, taking Inv fence that
separated it from tempting stretch OF
fresh green fields, and are riding over the
turf.
In all lifc it seems to you just then, there
is nothing to equal an early morning ride
like this The soft balmy air is the very
breath of spring. A few weeks later the
dust will have arisen in clouds and settled
upon grass aud grain and fields, but Just
now everything is beautifully aud wildly
green; the fields are like garden for love
illness and variety of coloring. What was
that ridiculous statement you read the other
day, that California has no wild flowers?
That is a fit com panon statement TO the
others hat there are no singing birds in the
State; that our flowers have no perfume,
and our fruits no distinctive flavor. Why
do not these overwise friends of ours carry
their complaints still further? Why adj
nit that our sky is blue-Our grass
green, or that we ever have rainy
days or bright sunshine like that new
beginning to gather diamond drops from
| the green-clad hills. You have climbed one
of these self-same hills and are riding
| slowly through grove of eucalyptus trees.
Suddenly q turn in the road brings you TO
| an old, deserted building, Just rude affair
| of upright boards, with single window, in
which the remains of a broken pane are
! still sticking, and no door at all. A poor,
| shabby little hut. but beautfied and glori-
| fed by the mlnistering aid of a banksia
| rose vine that has climbed over it from
| foundation 70 ridgepole. completely cover
| ing it with long, graceful sprays, with fra
grant white blossoms showered thickly
among the shlning green leaves.
You stare in surprise at the reckless in
| vader, growing so arrogantly in the face of
| science and the bo0ks-for YOU read, not n
! fortnight since, in n solemn English treatise
that there is but one climbing rose in
America, the pretty. pink prairie rose that
| grows so abundantlv in the middle West
| Evidently this banksia does not know it is
| an interloper, that there are no climbers in
| this country, and it is treadng unwar-
rautably upon the toes of its prairie sister
| 1t seems quite unabashed at yOur reflections
[ Probably it is not a mind-reader. At all
| events there IL is, growing like happy
child, its white blossoms hanging In great
| clusters, peeping in at the little window,
arehing over the low doorway, and drapine
| q graceful curtain Of green and white as Il
| portiere, 10 supply the place OF the missing
| portal
You do not rebuke the audacous climber,
but instead break off a beautiful spray OF