University Medical College - Scalpel Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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ward like lightning to disappear into the halo of darkness amid myriads of meteor-like Eire sparks, is la picture so firmly and pleasantly fixed on one's memory that he will long to live this trip over again. V All the unpleasant occurrences, the hardships endured and the disappointments are soon forgotten, and in their stead one thinks of the camp fire affability-of the story-swapping experiences, of sound restful sleep, good appetites and digestion and the lucky catch of that big trout, or the grand scenery witnessed while tracking elk, deer, moose or bear. ' My friend, be you hunter or fisher, d-o you not agree with me? After all, we derive much pleasure in. this life from what we eat, how we sleep, what we see and how we look at it. Dear doctor, take a trip of this kind, you will return with a ravenous appetite, a castiron digestion, new blood coursing through your blood vessels, you will have re- newed interest in your office or other duties, and will make firm resolutions to return to the woods again next year. E112 Grail I am tired of the asphalt streets o'er which we daily go, Am longing for the old trail-the trail we used to know. I donit want any smooth roads or vehicles rubber tired, I don't want any horses with high titles or nobly sired. I want the trail a-winding amid high mountain crags, And a train of pack cayuses with stout and sturdy- legs. I don't want a liveried driver with uniform so grand, I don't want a procession led by a noisy band. I want the -old Wrangler with his style so queer and quaint, I want t-o see the pictures that no artist e'er can paint. Ishwood trail, Two Ocean Pass, is good enough for me, H-ere wedded dew drops separate, each one to find a sea. At night, the trailing completed, while sitting by the fire, The whole world seems a playh-0-use, what more could we desire? The hunting trips of years ago, with pleasures are reviewed, With many plans for next year's trip, our spirits are imbued. I can see the sparks ascending through the halo of the night. On each peak a star is anchored like a bright electric light. Ah, listen- to the music sweet of the wind among the trees, 'Tis a song of glorious freedom, and do just as you please. Lay aside your high collar, you-r tie and your cuffs, Come with me along the trail to the Rockies' highest bluffs, 'Tis there, the sun shines brightest, the air is pure and sweet, There earth and I-Ieaven, in Nature's bridal bridal chamber, almost meet. When the last cayuse is loaded-, ready for the final start, I want our trails to be the same, or not very far apart. May there be no smooth slide rock 0-r places very high, When' we start on the final trail to the camp high in the sky. All fallen timber in the trail, may the good angels remove, That the journey to permanent camp may be nice and smooth May Game Warden, St. Peter, welcome us as his guests, The hunting season now is closed, the game will get a rest.

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