Page 27 (2/2)

By a thousand voices nature calls,

To fire the hearts of arnered hoards of flax;

Ho, whirlingax

Man blends his voice with nature's,

And the great chorus swells

He adds the notes of ho blood of the nation;

Oh, hope in a world of need;

The traditions of the fathers

Still be our vital seed

Thy newer daughters of the West,

Columbia, mother mine,

Still hold to the si stopped abruptly, and Dick sprang to his feet

"Good, Madeline!" he exclaireat it is to be

part of it"

"Do I?" she said "I thought of you when I wrote it Oh, here come

father and mother back from their drive"

Mr Davison rose hastily

"I'd no idea it was so late," he said "IMiss Elton, I

didn'tso clever You're all

right"