he 'bird with soldier
clothes.') Hours may be spent witnessing the strategy, diplomacy, anger,
spite and vindictiveness waged by these bird robbers and desperadoes,
for both are notorious house breakers, murderers and thieves in bird
land, as well as clever in appropriating kitchen supplies which they
surreptitiously seize when opportunity is presented.

"In Estes a Sabbath quiet broods at all times, broken only by the swish
of the angler's rod, the merry peal of frightened laughter as some
maiden lands her first trout, or the crunching of horses' hoofs in the
hard gravel roads as a pleasure party clatters by. Children romp and
play without fear of mosquitoes or snakes, troublesome poisonous insects
being banished as thoroughly as if destroyed by some mysterious
necromancer.

"Where in all the world can the lover go"--

"Stop, Jack, look into the depth of my eyes and skip those charming
nooks, bowers and rock girt dens where so many rehearse the preliminary
episode which leads to the altar. I know that by heart; skip the 'lover'
pages and read about the coach ride from Lyons, for we will get to Lyons
Friday, won't we?"

So after a glass of water, an orange and readjusting of pillows, Jack
picked up his book again.

"The ride from Lyons is so fraught with surprises that one becomes
distracted. Situated as it is in a veritable fiery furnace of red,
rough, ragged precipices, monuments of the eruptive age when volcanoes
vomited billowy lava over the face of the earth, Lyons is the antithesis
of what the traveler expected at the end of a tortuously curved railroad
track, over which the 'mixed' train of freight and disgruntled humanity
has been jerked, jostled and jumped along for about three hours,
covering forty miles.

"But a delicious dinner awaits; generally fried chicken, southern style.
This does not mean a sun dried remnant of a wing, or the active
extremity of a leg with a burnt bone protruding through gristly skin,
but a nice, big piece of a yellow-legged Plymouth Rock, the real
article, hatched by a mother hen acquainted with the business and not
one of those Illinois river incubators that furnish spring chickens at
all seasons of the year to be kept well frozen in cold storage until
called for. This chicken is fried in ranch butter to a golden russet
brown, if you happen to know what color cooking calls for, and a whole
lot of it comes in on one great big platter, so you get a chance to pick
a good joint,