I trust t my readers  concluded 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 learned to ro rentts, I almost live in my boat. Noter pleasure to take my friends out ro guide t very s in tern and manages times,  t is fun to try to steer by t of ergrasses and lilies, and of bus groion in tance of ter . I like to contend  is more exing to make your staunctle boat, obedient to your ilting o feel teady, imperious surge of ter!

    I also enjoy canoeing, and I suppose you  on moonligs. I cannot, 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 inlet, I am suddenly conscious of t me. A luminous o enfold me.  comes from trees er, I can never 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 suc enjoyed 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 McNabbs 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 confronted taut, so sit upon tic o be driven doacking 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  companions muco me. 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 in tree-tops joyance, and conceive Of sunsure, so do I gave evidence of things unseen.

    It seems to me t ty to compreions  rob  from past generations.

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

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

    I ree friend, gentle and more approac oak--a linden t gre Red Farm. One afternoon, 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 forget 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 on betal 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 sice any difference, except possibly ts, bety streets and in country roads. t t my ions about me. ty smite tramp of an unseen multitude, and t tumult frets my spirit. ts and tonous clangour of macorturing to ttention is not diverted by t is al in treets to people who can see.

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

    constant sense of pain. too, all gnarled and bent 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, and return to ately as noble trees, 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, springy eart 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!

    Next to a leisurely ;spinquot; on my tandem bicycle. It is splendid to feel tion of my iron steed. trengt sing.

    is possible, my dog accompanies me on a -eyed spaniels, ters and , erriers. At present tions is one of terriers. ail and t quot;p; in dogdom. My dog friends seem to understand 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  c company, and I am glad to say t c and serested in. Of course ttle ones cannot spell on t I manage to read t succeed t to dumb simes I make a mistake and do t of cer greets my blunder, and tomime begins all over again. I often tell tories or teac and leave us good and happy.

    Museums and art stores are also sources of pleasure and inspiration. Doubtless it range to many t t can feel action, sentiment, beauty in t it is true t I derive genuine pleasure from touc . As my finger tips trace line and curve, t and emotion  rayed. I can feel in te, courage and love, just as I can 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, conveniently lo I can easily reac and 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 can 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 can 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 stirring events. It o meet a fe actors and actresses  time and place and live again in tic past. I ted to toucume of Miss Ellen terry as sed our ideal of a queen; and t  divinity t  ellect in ure and attitude and ty t subdues and overcomes in every line of ive face. In teness and inaccessibility of grief w.

    I also knoo count o see o be  time I sa; I en read tory, 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 imagine  strange sleep of ty years, and aggered to .

    I ;t; Once  striking parts of quot;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  actor gave  a ccant I er and felt Sc my knee. Mr. Jefferson recited t dialogues of quot;Rip Van inkle,quot; in o indicate as far as I could tures and action t sever of dramatic action, and could make only random guesses; but erful art ed tion to t;Is a man so soon forgotten er ion over signing 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 touc many points tiful?

    Everyts ate I may be in, to be content.

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

    Beyond t, and music, and s companions I may not enter. Fate, silent, pitiless, bars tion  is still undisciplined and passionate; but my tongue  utter tter, futile  rise to my lips, and to my  like unsears. Silence sits immense upon my soul. t;tfulness.quot; So I try to make t in others lips my happiness.