"Please come and visit us at the ranch this summer, Fred," Johnny-boy said, giving me their address.

"We'll teach you to ride a bucking horse," Hal smiled.

"I'll be happy to accept your invitation," I said, "but is there room in the world for another Ivy League cowboy?" I smiled.

But I would go through anything learning to ride a bucking horse, or even a ferocious lion, if it would bring me the happiness that it has Johnny-boy. He has arrived.

one

THOUGHTS ON A SUMMER STROLL

The boys on the beach,

The boys on the beach,

Are agile and fragile-

And all out of reach.

Or are they?

The boys in the bars, The boys in the bars,

Are drinking and thinking-

As distant as stars.

Or are they?

The boys in the park,

The boys in the park,

Look thrilling and chilling-

Not out for a lark.

Or are they?

I'll stroll and I'll look,

I'll stroll and I'll look, Just eyeing and sighing, Then go home to a book. Or will l?

M. M. G.

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