. California agriculturist and live stock journal. Agriculture -- California; Livestock -- California; Animal industry -- California. California Agriculturist and Live Stock Journal. 172 (JHE leafy bowers are sung of, and the seats *ueath the primrose hedt^e, And t he yeatH by the shady maple, and the nooks by the wnter'e edge. There are lines to the vine-clad arbor—cool ref- uge of summer time; But the Charms of a cheerful straw stack I never saw in rhyme. Sometimes I chance npon one, in my plodding, rural way. And am truly, surely tempted to Indefinite delay, And set-king its sunny Cviruer,
. California agriculturist and live stock journal. Agriculture -- California; Livestock -- California; Animal industry -- California. California Agriculturist and Live Stock Journal. 172 (JHE leafy bowers are sung of, and the seats *ueath the primrose hedt^e, And t he yeatH by the shady maple, and the nooks by the wnter'e edge. There are lines to the vine-clad arbor—cool ref- uge of summer time; But the Charms of a cheerful straw stack I never saw in rhyme. Sometimes I chance npon one, in my plodding, rural way. And am truly, surely tempted to Indefinite delay, And set-king its sunny Cviruer, I build my caKth-s there. Those well-known, royal structures that disappear in air. I dream of joy and sweetness; all hard paths fade away. And only my hope and the sunshine illuminate the day. Then, wooed by the brooding quiet. I count my bless- ings o'er, While the blue, soft sky entreats me to think of clouds no more. I fashion plans for the future, where I'll get a new book every week, And tickets for concerts and lectures whenever I choose to speak. I muse o'er my sometime travels, when "my ship comes over the sea," And visions of Rome and Paris in my Journeyings come to me. I shall see the Vatican famous, and behold the world renowned toe Of Pius now reigning so widely—infallible man, you know I imagine I see St. Peter's, and standing awe-struck 'neath the dome, I wonder if it is a cathedsal, and I am at last in Rome. In "merry England" and Scotland, ia Ireland, too, I I must roam. Going over the bogs and marshes, to kiss the "blarney ; Just here my thoughts are scattered. Blue-eyed broth- er Ben finds me out; A picture of brown-faced wonder, he soys, ''What are you about ? " I've hunted and hunted an hour, and can't find any fish-line; I want to go fishing with Charley, and ma says it's tea- kettle ; I rise up and leave quite reluctant, but my feeling of unrest has flown. • And richer 1 feel for that hour spent by
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