The blossoms and birds bring us, yearly, sweet token That Nature's glad promises never are broken. Then sing, happy birdlings, nor ever grow weary! Laugh on, merry children, 'tis time to be cheery!— For Summer, the beautiful, reigns!
THE LAST CRUISE OF "THE SLUG."
By Thomas Edwin Turner.
CÆSAR AND THE PEACOCK. ([SEE NEXT PAGE.])
lifford and Jack went down from Brooklyn last summer to spend a few weeks with Clifford's aunt, in the cozy old homestead on the Shrewsbury River. Yachting was to be their chief enjoyment. To be sure, they were not practical yachtsmen; but Jack said he "had read up the subject," and Cliff "had been out in a yacht once or twice," so they had no fears.
Clifford and Jack were second cousins, and great friends; but Jack had been in the habit of spending his summers at Saratoga, and accordingly he looked forward to his present trip with the feeling of an adventurous explorer of unknown regions. And in order to be prepared for every emergency, he brought an "outfit" that filled a strong trunk, two valises, a shawl-strap, and a number of queerly-shaped packages.
Clifford, who for several years had spent a part of each summer at his aunt's, carried a handbag. When Jack asked him where the rest of his things were, Clifford, with a glance at his cousin's paraphernalia, answered that he preferred to keep his "outfit" at his aunt's. He was not likely to need it elsewhere, and he saved expense for extra baggage.