The Normal Record. November 1904

              12
THE NORMAL RECORD.
line trembled as it met the waves of brilliant
light from the illuminations. Higher up the
yellow halo, paled and finally died in the dark
blue zenith, where a few undimmed stars looked
down upon another starry world.
There were gay, frivolous evenings on the
Pike, when we saw Hagenback's famous animal
show, Hale's fire fighters, the naval battle, and
other shows, and watched the happy, light-
hearted throngs surge up and down the brilliant street. Spielers on every side Med to
lure the crowd into the booths and shows they
represented. Stringed instruments and brass
bands, playing melodies of almost every people,
were  heard  at  every   step-    It  was   a  noisy,
glittering, unusual scene. I looked in vain to
find Miss Lennon, studying the music of the
Pike, Dr. Adams of hydroxaly mine fame, taking notes for morning talks in the Assembly
later on, and Dr. Van Liew standing aside with
folded arms studying the psychology of the
crowd, but the surging throng, the distracting
side shows, the garish light, and the strains of
"Bidelia,  oh  Bidelia"  were not for them.
I could go on telling you of experiences in
hospitable St. Louis itself, with its Southern
flavor of the Democrats in frock coats and
slouch hats, who gathered for the great Convention, but already you are weary, and I must
close this account of memories of the Fair,
over which I like to dream this fall.       G. L. H.
An Autumn Ride Long Ago.
Stella
We started at half-past fWe, Bob on his favorite horse, Nell, with a bag of lunch and a
sack of salt tied on behind the saddle, and I
on old Lucy. Bob was very important this
morning as we set out. The weight of his
twelve years, the care of me, his nine year
old sister, and the responsibility of salting
the sheep up in Rock Creek Canyon, rested
heavily upon him. I, in pink sunbonnet, red
dress and white apron, sat on old fat Lucy with
my feet sticking out straight, and rejoicing in
the unspeakable joys of being allowed to go on
this important trip, and having brother's saddle
with real  stirrups.
Once on the road, we pushed on at a good
pace. The sun was not yet up, and the air
was cool and bracing. Everywhere spider webs
and long, silky spider threads hung and floated
about. Bob said this was a sure sign of Autumn, for an Indian had told him so, and an
Indian's prophecies, regarding the seasons are
infallible. As we passed along under large
oaks and sycamores, leaves fell softly,
some times lodging on us. The horses made a
great noise as they walked over the fallen
leaves. Often times the wind would catch up
some of these and send them whirling and
dancing on before us for a long way, when,
with a twirl, it would pile them into a neat,
little bank, and then go whistling on, leaving
the poor, little leaves far from their mother
tree.    In  the  branches   over   head,   we   could
Crowder.
hear a few birds softly twittering as they flew
about  seeking  an  early  breakfast.
After a half-hour's ride, we turned off from
the road and entered the canyon again, following the little creek that rushes down the
hills, through the canyon, and out into the valley. Trees now surrounded us, and mountains
rose high on either side. The sun was coming
up and all nature seemed to wake. A squirrel
darted across our path and sprang up the trunk
of a neighboring pine. A rabbit jumped out
from a near bush, ran a few feet, and then
crouched low with his ears laid back. When
we came up within a few steps of him, he
sprang away, to stop again as before. The birds
overhead chirped and chattered, and now and
then we could hear a b!ue jay scream. The
creek at our feet crept along peacefully at
times and again made a deafening noise as it
hurried over a long riffle of rocks and boulders.
Finally we began to see signs of the sheep.
The grass was nibbled off short in places, and
in some spots, the dew was brushed off as if
some of the sheep had just passed. We dismounted and tied our horses to a large oak
tree. Then Bob untied the bag of salt and
slung it over his shoulder, and we started away
over the hill. The grass was now dry and
slippery and in some spots the walking was
very difficult. But we enjoyed every step as
only children can, climbing over this stone,
and rolling that one down the hill; looking
down holes in the ground and wondering if a,