I trust t my readers    cluded from ter on books t reading is my only pleasure; my pleasures and amusements are many and varied.

        More tory I o my love of try and out-of-door sports.

        e a little girl, I learo ro rentts, I almost live in my boat. Noter pleasure to take my friends uide t very s in tern and maimes,    t is fun to try to steer by t rasses and lilies, and of bus groion in tance of ter . I like to tend    is more exing to make your staunctle boat, obedient to your ilting o feel teady, imperious surge of ter!

        I also enjoy oeing, and I suppose you    on moonligs. I ot, it is true, see teal softly across to follo I kno I feel ts as simes a daring little fisen a pond-lily presses s my ly, as er of a cove or i, I am suddenly scious of t me. A luminous o enfold me.    es from trees er, I ever discover. I range sensation even in t of ty. I    it on cold, stormy days and at nig is like the kiss of warm lips on my face.

        My favourite amusement is sailing. In ted Nova Scotia, and unities sujoyed before to make tance of ter spending a fery, about , Miss Sullivan and I    to er part of the harbour was our joy, our paradise.

        glorious sails o Mabbs Island, to York Redoubt, and to t Arm! And at nig soot in t, silent men-of-eresting, so beautiful! t is a joy forever.

        One day a in t Arm, in     along o ctle sail-boats so and fro close by, and turned our faces y noticed a black cloud drifting in from til it covered t unseen barriers. Our little boat froaut, so sit upon tic o be driven doag and jibbing, led    drove us from side to side uous fury. Our s beat fast, and our rembled ement, not fear, for    our skipper er of tuation. eered torm    and ts in ted and ted applause for ter of ttle sail-boat t ventured out into torm. At last, cold, hungry and weary, we reached our pier.

        Last summer I spent in one of t nooks of one of t charming villages in New England.

        rentts, is associated

        gratitude t    panions mue. I joined in all ts and rambles ter. ttle of ttle ones and tories I told t to remember. Mr. Ciated me into teries of tree and il tle ear of love I    from leaf to leaf. t is t Even as ts, s iops joyance, and ceive Of sunsure, so do I gave evidence of things unseen.

        It seems to me t ty to preions    rob    from past geions.

        ted capacity is a sort of sixth sense--a soul-sense which sees, hears, feels, all in one.

        I ree friends i. I take all my oto see tree. It stands on a bluff overlooking King Pree lore say it must ood t radition t uree King P oh and sky.

        I ree friend, gentle and more approac oak--a li gre Red Farm. Oernoon, during a terrible torm, I felt a tremendous cras told me, t t out to see t ood so many tempests, and it o see rate riven and ily fallen.

        But I must not fet t I o e about last summer in particular. As soon as my examinations o ttle cottage on one of ts of y    into t ec ruggles going oal and labour. e kne beyond tory by t of t better make a    tle arred fields and s-breathey shall endure forever.

        People ions reac I siy difference, except possibly ts, bety streets and in try roads. t t my ions about me. ty smite tramp of an unseen multitude, and t tumult frets my spirit. ts and tonous gour of mac to ttention is not diverted by t is al is to people who    see.

        In try one sees only Natures fair    saddened by truggle for mere existe goes on in ty. Several times I ed ty streets    to t good people sent to live in fine rong aiful, s and grostretctle creatures, t and    me h a

        stant sense of pain. too, all gnarled a out of s t an endless struggle tence must be--no more ted attempts to do somety bet and opportunity. ts to all    are tys dingy alleys t, and t t and obstruct t;Give us t; y, its splendour and its tumult and its gold, aurn to ately as rees, and ts s and pure as    is impossible not to turn to try after a year of own.

        a joy it is to feel t, spri once more, to follo lead to ferny brooks    of rippling notes, or to clamber over a stone o green fields t tumble and roll and climb in riotous gladness!

        o a leisurely ;spin" on my tandem bicycle. It is splendid to feel tion of my iron steed. trengt sing.

        is possible, my dog apanies me on a -eyed spaniels, ters and , erriers. At present tions is one of terriers. ail and t "p; in dogdom. My dog friends seem to uand my limitations, and ale    ails.

        er to knit and croc; I read in t, so t tand in t and te ones curved on top. Eaco distinguise larger t I rouble in follos maneuvers by moving my ly over ter a play. ting to anotells me urn.

        If I o be all alone and in an idle mood, I play a game of solitaire, of he card.

        If to frolic    pany, and I am glad to say t d serested in. Of course ttle ones ot spell on t I mao read t succeed t to dumb simes I make a mistake and do t of cer greets my blunder, and tomime begins all ain. I ofteories or tead leave us good and happy.

        Museums and art stores are also sources of pleasure and inspiration. Doubtless it rao many t t    feel a, se, beauty in t it is true t I derive genuine pleasure from touc . As my fiips trace line and curve, t aion    rayed. I    feel in te, ce and love, just as I    detect tted to toucure t and t t tames tain lion and subdues t passions. My soul deligs of to me.

        A medallion of udy, vely lo I    easily read touciful, sad face    majestic broracks of life and bitter evidences of struggle and sorroless eyes seeking, even in ter, for t and t seeking in vain; t beautiful moutrue and tender. It is t, and of a man acquainted and ion--tual nig-- O dark, dark, amid total eclipse it all hope of day!

        In imagination I    eady, ating steps o camp--singing of life, of love, of s of a noble race. It     an immortal croion of all ages.

        I sometimes    more sensitive to ties of sculpture tly felt t may, I kno I    feel t-t Greeks in their marble gods and goddesses.

        Anoto tre. I enjoy o me ed on tage far more t, because t seems as if I    of stirris. It o meet a fe actors and actresses    time and plad live again in tic past. I ted to toucume of Miss Ellen terry as sed our ideal of a queen; and t    divinity t    elle ure and attitude and ty t subdues and overes in every line of ive face. In teness and inaccessibility of grief w.

        I also knoo t o see o be    time I sa; I eory, but I    t, kind iful, patic representation quite carried me a. I ure of old Rip in my fingers ook me to see    of    me touc I could imagirange sleep of ty years, and aggered to .

        I ;t; Oriking parts of "t; for me. tion-room age. ed t table, and Bob Acres e s    tures in a    o me. to fig ts and parries of t at    actave    a t I er a Sc my knee. Mr. Jeffersoed t dialogues of "Rip Van inkle," in o indicate as far as I could tures and a t sever of dramatic a, and could make only random guesses; but erful art ed tion to t;Is a man so soon fotten er ion ning tract o be rig of life itself; t is, they should.

        I remember    time I    to tre. It tle actress, was

        in Boston, and Miss Sullivan took me to see ;t; I s ternating joy and    ran t beautiful little play, or ted it. After tted to go be ume. It ing over ly, sigue, to an immense audience. I    learning to speak, and ed il I could say it perfectly. Imagine my deligood to    ation stretco greet me.

        Is it not true, t my life s limitations touy points tiful?

        Everyts ate I may be in, to be tent.

        Sometimes, it is true, a sense of isolation enfolds me like a ist as I sit alone and    at lifes s gate.

        Beyond t, and musid s panions I may er. Fate, silent, pitiless, bars tion    is still undisciplined and passionate; but my toter tter, futile    rise to my lips, and to my    like unsears. Siles immense upon my soul. t;tfulness." So I try to make t in others lips my happiness.
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