HE FREE LANCE.
F. T. Coix, 'oo, Editor-in-Chief.
G. K. WARN, 'OO
D. F,. WurrTzla4, 'oo.
C. T. WADE,
H. H. HANSON, 'O2.
C. E. DP,NNEV, 'OO, Business Manager.
C. H. BASSI,R, 'OI, Assistant
When Winter's dreary course is run,
And nature, sleeping in decay,
Shall wake to greet the vernal sun
And list the robins' roundelay;
When April buds shall burst to bloom,
And strew their glory o'er the tomb
Of 'Winter's lonely bier:
With joyful hearts we can hut sing
Sweet blessings of the new born Spring,
The morning of the year.
MY LADY OF THr, FIELD OF BLOOD.
forest way seemed endless to Carl, as he trudged wearily
ong, with his heavy portfolio under his arm, and he al
ost felt himself wishing that he had not left the cosy
to tramp over the rugged hills. And then, too, he had
le to repay him for his trouble. True, he had made a
if a miniature cataract, tumbling from its lofty height
i on great, gaunt boulders, trickling over their mossy
APRIL, 1899
Editor s
A. M. ARNEY, 'at
S. H. KUHN, 'OI.
A. H. H. MILLUR, 'O2
APRIL.
.4 ot A
No. I.