The children went into ecstacies over the Shetland ponies, and the ladies declared the Arabian horses “too lovely for anything.” Every boy who visited this booth was presented with a baseball covered with the best of horsehide leather. But time fails me to tell of all the wonderful things which this Fair presented to the eyes of admiring men. On one point only was dissatisfaction expressed by the visitors—there was no Midway. President Monkey, when interviewed by a representative of the Associated Press in regard to the omission, made the following remarkable statement: “No, it was not a matter of oversight. The camel volunteered to bring some of his Arabs to establish the Streets of Cairo, and some of the monkeys were anxious to put in a Gay Paris display. The lions wished to bring some trained Wild Men of Borneo for a Hagenbeck show, and the snakes wanted to do jugglery. You can see that there was no lack of what misguided people call ‘attractions.’ “The management discussed the Midway from every point of view, and decided that it was entirely too low grade for a first-class entertainment such as we desired to make. We felt that it would only attract a rough class of visitors, whose presence we did not desire. And so the unanimous decision was, ‘We will have a good, clean, respectable show or we will have no show at all.’ “No, sir. Say emphatically in your dispatches that the Midway was intentionally omitted. Such things may do for men, but beasts will have none of them.” The Fair was in every way a success, being carried through without disturbance of any kind and coming out free of debt and with much legal tender in the treasury. Men were so much impressed by the obligations which they owed to the animal world that there was a decided improvement in their treatment of its various representatives. While this state of affairs cannot be expected to last long, the animals have learned how to arouse such respect and have decided to make the Animal Fair an annual attraction. Mary McCrae Culter. A DAY. In the morning the path by the river Sent me a messenger bird,— “I’m all by myself and lonely, Come,” as I waked I heard. I walked the path by the water, Till a daisy spoke and said, “I am so tired of shining; Why don’t you pat my head?” So I kissed and fondled the daisy, Till the clover upon the lea Said, “It is time for eating, Spread your luncheon on me.” But first I went to the orchard, And gathered the fruit that hung, Before I answered the green-sward, Where the clovery grasses swung. Then the rocks on the hill-side called me, And the flowers beside the way, And I talked with the oaks and maples Till Night was threatening Day. Then I knelt at the foot of the sunset, And laid thereon my prayer, And the angels, star-crowned, hurried To carry it up the stair.