hill overlooking the harbour: surrounded _A red-brick bungalow perched on a st Farther, the Conswl-General is anxious at the foot by a stone wall, entered by a' So hocks how the royal beast is. wont £0 een gate whence three paths, strewn lace them before the high with white sea shells, wind up the hillside! through gardens bright with sinuous rills scheme blossoms many an incense bearing tree."
On the level hill top, grass lawns and trim flower beds; the terraced slopes, shaded by fruit trees, overgrown with unruly vines and creepers, with here and there cleating, green with well-ordered vegetable and strawberry beds.
As the seasons change so does the garden change its dress: the vivid the lines of Fong spring leaves giving pi lace before sons. the white clouds of pear and cherry blos-sow in carly summer, and these in their turn have withered before the blushing roses, who after a short but glorious reign have given way to the cold chrysanthemum. For the winter is at hand, the wind is moaning through the trees, scattering the autumn leaves in showers of gold, and soon the garden's little people—flowers, birds, and insects, will fall asleep and vanish until the calling of the spring-
The North Wind is driving the wild fowl from their summer homes in Siberia, and every day flocks of geese, duck, and teal come flying over the town in search of winter quarters ina warmer clime. At thi time the sportsmen emerge from the inglorious retirement of summer and come into their own again At sundown they sally forth into the rice-fields and lagoons where, hiding behind dykes and crouching in the whispering weeds, they lay in ambush for the "little victims" who, "unconscious of theirdoom," circle round and round before settling down. for the night. It is almost dark before the binds come in, and they fly, especially the veal, at the specd of an xpress train. A Lwhirr of wings in the distance, growin into a long-drawn, rippling whistle, a fas! land a Dang, followed by a rush to where a black object has come rocket-jing down—duck are seldom killed outsight, and they will likely escape into the "lagoon unless pounced upon at once. For a short half hour the guns speak merrily, then darkness settles down, and although the air is alive with wings the birds are safe until another day. A last Splash through the marshes searching for wounded ones, and the sportsmen, wet to to the skin and numb with cold stumble home though the black darkness guided by a small boy currying a lantern. whose light dances like a will o'the wisp up and down the paddy folds, often causing evea the surest foot to stumble ana pitch its owner headlong into the soft mud that lis on \either side of him. Maskee! a change of clothes at the station, a dram from the taste, and they gojhome by the last train "well Should a man desire exercise he may chase the wily pheasant over the hills and through the copses, but without the aid of a good dog or a Corean hunter, he will hardly ull his bag. The unexpected always happens. The other day a party straggling through the long grass in quest of quail, suddenly heard the man on the far left fire and lery "Deer!" Almost before a gun could be levelled, two graceful animals had flashed past not more than fifty lyards away, bounding through the jndle, like kangaroos in the bush.
ug went every gun along the line—but what availed Nos. 6 and 10?—tho doer {were next seen scampering up a hill side over a mile away Phere are still to be found people who come to Corea to shoot tigers, having rex pee! Found our aes galens and aske is evening meal off 2 fat villager. They usually return sadder and wiser mex, and not unfrequently condemn, quite unjustly, the country and its people. To whom the old resident over a parting drink consolingly remarks Told you so—why couldn't you stick to snipe The foreigners in Coren who have shot tigers are mostly dead: therefore let respect their memory. Their successors, who are but degenerate liars, content them-solves with boasting of having seen one, or vaunt the possession of askin, long reen of the presented to a friend, of unusual
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.