The velvet wings dropped heavy. O'er the eyes There came a mist, like hoary mists that roll Far up the mountain, blotting out the skies And leaving scars upon the lonely soul; The stars were blurred, the hilltops canopied, The valleys lost, the little bird was dead. THE FIELD DAISY. JENNY T. RUPRECHT. Nomadic queen with softly petaled face, Thine is a beauteous throne where'er thou art, And thine a reign triumphant from the start; And though thy throne were in half-desert place, Or where thou may'st behold the brooklets race, Or just above the sleepy valley's heart, Or higher up the grasses tall to part-- Queen of the fields! thou reign'st with witching grace. If shine, 'tis well; if shade, thou murmur'st not, For thou hast learned of nature patient trust-- Glad of the cloudless light all golden wrought, Nor sad if shadows fall, as shadows must-- All these shall flee before thy floral reign, And leave fresh charms throughout thy wide domain. A SUBMERGED FOREST Many years ago, even so far back that the traditions of the oldest Siwash extend not thereto, there was some vast upheaval of mother earth on the shores of Lake Samamish that sent a portion of the big Newcastle hill sliding down into the lake, with its tall evergreen forest intact, and there it is to this day. About this time of the year the waters of the lake are at their lowest, and then the tops of the tallest of these big submerged trees are out of the water, but never more than ten or twelve inches. Unfortunately for the curiosity seeker and traveling public generally the submerged forest is on the opposite side of the lake from the railroad and the station of Monohon, and very few people ever see the phenomenon unless they take the time and pains necessary to reach it.