Our (invisible) Midnight Sun!"
BULL, the tweed-clad British Tourist,
Muses—"Home seems the securest,
On the whole. Why widely ramble,
Tramp, and climb, and spend, and gamble,
Face infection, dulness, danger,
All the woe that waits "the Stranger,"
And the Tourist (rich) environs,
At the call of foreign Sirens,
When home charmers, bright-eyed, active,