Outing . nt ride,you know. Nonsense ! Youve got to tell Lysons,or whoever it is, what to do. You knowwhat I mean ; then youve got to take careof me. Good heavens ! You dont supposeIve time to take care of any woman on arace course ! Well, never mind. Ive never been toAscot, or, indeed, to any big race your duty to see Ive a good time,you know. But, Polly, remember Ive my businessto attend to. Its impossible for me tolook after you. Ill come round for halfan hour if Im not riding ; but, Im gladto say^ they dont let me stand down much now. They, in Tom Skeltons vocabulary, wasa gener
Outing . nt ride,you know. Nonsense ! Youve got to tell Lysons,or whoever it is, what to do. You knowwhat I mean ; then youve got to take careof me. Good heavens ! You dont supposeIve time to take care of any woman on arace course ! Well, never mind. Ive never been toAscot, or, indeed, to any big race your duty to see Ive a good time,you know. But, Polly, remember Ive my businessto attend to. Its impossible for me tolook after you. Ill come round for halfan hour if Im not riding ; but, Im gladto say^ they dont let me stand down much now. They, in Tom Skeltons vocabulary, wasa generic term which included all ownersof race horses. Never mind, continued Polly, withall that calm disregard of obstacles whichcharacterizes a woman bent upon havingher own way. Ive no doubt youre ingreat request, but youll be able to findlots of chances of talking to me if youchoose. To be continued. WHEELING THROUGH THE LAND OF EVANGELINE. BY ANNETTA J. HALLIDAY. Gravest thou Arcady ? Bold is thy craving !. and cross of thick fog inhappy destiny because, iwith the ideas possessed ERTAINLY, I shallalways persist inthinking that itwas a happy des-tiny which landedme at the wooden-gabled old townof Halifax, oneJune morning,with the red flagGeorge floating abovethe silent streets. Aconnectionby most of people, my opinions of Nova Scotia hadnever been particularly bright or cheerful,and indeed, so far as Halifax itself wasconcerned, if it had ever entered my headat all, it was with the vague and rudesuggestion of a place rarely alluded toin drawing-room society, except by thegentlemen of the cloth. Where shall we go to spend our sum-mer? had been a much-ventilated topic between F and myself ever since the warm breezes of May and early June hadwhispered of an outing. Take your bicycles and whirl overNova Scotia, said a friend, in pity at ourdilemma. The idea seemed as preposterous as itwas novel. Nova Scotia, of all places, fora summer jaunt ! But it pleased us both,and one mor
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