There the cat-tails thickly grew,
With their heads so brown and furry;
They were straight and slender too,
Plenty strong enough he knew,
And he sought them in a hurry.
Such an arrow as he wrought--
Almost passed a boy's believing.
When he drew the bow-string taut,
Out of sight and quick as thought
Up it went, the blue air cleaving.

Who was Sammie, would you know?
It was grandpa--he was little
Nearly eighty years ago;
But 'tis no doubt as fine a bow
As the best he still could whittle.




[Illustration: A YOUNG SALT]

HE COULDN'T SAY NO.


[[I]]t was sad and it was strange!
He just was full of knowledge,
His studies swept the whole broad range
Of High School and of College;