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diff --git a/old/1139-h/1139-h.htm b/old/1139-h/1139-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1cc3496 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1139-h/1139-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5879 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Fisherman's Luck and Some Other Uncertain Things, by Henry Van Dyke + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fisherman's Luck, by Henry van Dyke + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fisherman's Luck + +Author: Henry van Dyke + +Release Date: July 26, 2008 [EBook #1139] +Last Updated: January 15, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FISHERMAN'S LUCK *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + FISHERMAN'S LUCK<br /> AND<br /> SOME OTHER UNCERTAIN THINGS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Henry van Dyke + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Now I conclude that not only in Physicke, but likewise in + sundry more certaine arts, fortune hath great share in + them." + + M. DE MONTAIGNE: Divers Events. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> DEDICATION TO MY LADY GRAYGOWN + </p> + <p> + Here is the basket; I bring it home to you. There are no great fish in it. + But perhaps there may be one or two little ones which will be to your + taste. And there are a few shining pebbles from the bed of the brook, and + ferns from the cool, green woods, and wild flowers from the places that + you remember. I would fain console you, if I could, for the hardship of + having married an angler: a man who relapses into his mania with the + return of every spring, and never sees a little river without wishing to + fish in it. But after all, we have had good times together as we have + followed the stream of life towards the sea. And we have passed through + the dark days without losing heart, because we were comrades. So let this + book tell you one thing that is certain. In all the life of your fisherman + the best piece of luck is just YOU. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> FISHERMAN'S LUCK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE THRILLING MOMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> TALKABILITY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> I. PRELUDE—ON AN OLD, FOOLISH MAXIM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> II. THEME—ON A SMALL, USEFUL VIRTUE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> III. VARIATIONS—ON A PLEASANT PHRASE + FROM MONTAIGNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> A WILD STRAWBERRY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> LOVERS AND LANDSCAPE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> A FATAL SUCCESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> A NORWEGIAN HONEYMOON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> WHO OWNS THE MOUNTAINS? </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> A LAZY, IDLE BROOK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> I. A CASUAL INTRODUCTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> II. A BETTER ACQUAINTANCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> III. THE SECRETS OF INTIMACY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE OPEN FIRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> I. LIGHTING UP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> II. THE CAMP-FIRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> III. THE COOKING-FIRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> IV. THE SMUDGE-FIRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> V. THE LITTLE FRIENDSHIP-FIRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> VI. ALTARS OF REMEMBRANCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> A SLUMBER SONG FOR THE FISHERMAN'S CHILD </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + FISHERMAN'S LUCK + </h1> + <p> + Has it ever fallen in your way to notice the quality of the greetings that + belong to certain occupations? + </p> + <p> + There is something about these salutations in kind which is singularly + taking and grateful to the ear. They are as much better than an ordinary + "good day" or a flat "how are you?" as a folk-song of Scotland or the + Tyrol is better than the futile love-ditty of the drawing-room. They have + a spicy and rememberable flavour. They speak to the imagination and point + the way to treasure-trove. + </p> + <p> + There is a touch of dignity in them, too, for all they are so free and + easy—the dignity of independence, the native spirit of one who takes + for granted that his mode of living has a right to make its own forms of + speech. I admire a man who does not hesitate to salute the world in the + dialect of his calling. + </p> + <p> + How salty and stimulating, for example, is the sailorman's hail of "Ship + ahoy!" It is like a breeze laden with briny odours and a pleasant dash of + spray. The miners in some parts of Germany have a good greeting for their + dusky trade. They cry to one who is going down the shaft, "Gluck auf!" All + the perils of an underground adventure and all the joys of seeing the sun + again are compressed into a word. Even the trivial salutation which the + telephone has lately created and claimed for its peculiar use—"Hello, + hello"—seems to me to have a kind of fitness and fascination. It is + like a thoroughbred bulldog, ugly enough to be attractive. There is a + lively, concentrated, electric air about it. It makes courtesy wait upon + dispatch, and reminds us that we live in an age when it is necessary to be + wide awake. + </p> + <p> + I have often wished that every human employment might evolve its own + appropriate greeting. Some of them would be queer, no doubt; but at least + they would be an improvement on the wearisome iteration of "Good-evening" + and "Good-morning," and the monotonous inquiry, "How do you do?"—a + question so meaningless that it seldom tarries for an answer. Under the + new and more natural system of etiquette, when you passed the time of day + with a man you would know his business, and the salutations of the + market-place would be full of interest. + </p> + <p> + As for my chosen pursuit of angling (which I follow with diligence when + not interrupted by less important concerns), I rejoice with every true + fisherman that it has a greeting all its own and of a most honourable + antiquity. There is no written record of its origin. But it is quite + certain that since the days after the Flood, when Deucalion + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Did first this art invent + Of angling, and his people taught the same," +</pre> + <p> + two honest and good-natured anglers have never met each other by the way + without crying out, "What luck?" + </p> + <p> + Here, indeed, is an epitome of the gentle art. Here is the spirit of it + embodied in a word and paying its respects to you with its native accent. + Here you see its secret charms unconsciously disclosed. The attraction of + angling for all the ages of man, from the cradle to the grave, lies in its + uncertainty. 'Tis an affair of luck. + </p> + <p> + No amount of preparation in the matter of rods and lines and hooks and + lures and nets and creels can change its essential character. No + excellence of skill in casting the delusive fly or adjusting the tempting + bait upon the hook can make the result secure. You may reduce the chances, + but you cannot eliminate them. There are a thousand points at which + fortune may intervene. The state of the weather, the height of the water, + the appetite of the fish, the presence or absence of other anglers—all + these indeterminable elements enter into the reckoning of your success. + There is no combination of stars in the firmament by which you can + forecast the piscatorial future. When you go a-fishing, you just take your + chances; you offer yourself as a candidate for anything that may be going; + you try your luck. + </p> + <p> + There are certain days that are favourites among anglers, who regard them + as propitious for the sport. I know a man who believes that the fish + always rise better on Sunday than on any other day in the week. He + complains bitterly of this supposed fact, because his religious scruples + will not allow him to take advantage of it. He confesses that he has + sometimes thought seriously of joining the Seventh-Day Baptists. + </p> + <p> + Among the Pennsylvania Dutch, in the Alleghany Mountains, I have found a + curious tradition that Ascension Day is the luckiest in the year for + fishing. On that morning the district school is apt to be thinly attended, + and you must be on the stream very early if you do not wish to find wet + footprints on the stones ahead of you. + </p> + <p> + But in fact, all these superstitions about fortunate days are idle and + presumptuous. If there were such days in the calendar, a kind and firm + Providence would never permit the race of man to discover them. It would + rob life of one of its principal attractions, and make fishing altogether + too easy to be interesting. + </p> + <p> + Fisherman's luck is so notorious that it has passed into a proverb. But + the fault with that familiar saying is that it is too short and too narrow + to cover half the variations of the angler's possible experience. For if + his luck should be bad, there is no portion of his anatomy, from the crown + of his head to the soles of his feet, that may not be thoroughly wet. But + if it should be good, he may receive an unearned blessing of abundance not + only in his basket, but also in his head and his heart, his memory and his + fancy. He may come home from some obscure, ill-named, lovely stream—some + Dry Brook, or Southwest Branch of Smith's Run—with a creel full of + trout, and a mind full of grateful recollections of flowers that seemed to + bloom for his sake, and birds that sang a new, sweet, friendly message to + his tired soul. He may climb down to "Tommy's Rock" below the cliffs at + Newport (as I have done many a day with my lady Greygown), and, all + unnoticed by the idle, weary promenaders in the path of fashion, haul in a + basketful of blackfish, and at the same time look out across the shining + sapphire waters and inherit a wondrous good fortune of dreams— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Have glimpses that will make him less forlorn; + Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea, + Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn." +</pre> + <p> + But all this, you must remember, depends upon something secret and + incalculable, something that we can neither command nor predict. It is an + affair of gift, not of wages. Fish (and the other good things which are + like sauce to the catching of them) cast no shadow before. Water is the + emblem of instability. No one can tell what he shall draw out of it until + he has taken in his line. Herein are found the true charm and profit of + angling for all persons of a pure and childlike mind. + </p> + <p> + Look at those two venerable gentlemen floating in a skiff upon the clear + waters of Lake George. One of them is a successful statesman, an + ex-President of the United States, a lawyer versed in all the curious + eccentricities of the "lawless science of the law." The other is a learned + doctor of medicine, able to give a name to all diseases from which men + have imagined that they suffered, and to invent new ones for those who are + tired of vulgar maladies. But all their learning is forgotten, their cares + and controversies are laid aside, in "innocuous desuetude." The Summer + School of Sociology is assembled. The Medical Congress is in session. + </p> + <p> + But they care not—no, not so much as the value of a single live + bait. The sun shines upon them with a fervent heat, but it irks them not. + The rain descends, and the winds blow and beat upon them, but they are + unmoved. They are securely anchored here in the lee of Sabbath-Day Point. + </p> + <p> + What enchantment binds them to that inconsiderable spot? What magic fixes + their eyes upon the point of a fishing-rod, as if it were the finger of + destiny? It is the enchantment of uncertainty: the same natural magic that + draws the little suburban boys in the spring of the year, with their + strings and pin-hooks, around the shallow ponds where dace and redfins + hide; the same irresistible charm that fixes a row of city gamins, like + ragged and disreputable fish-crows, on the end of a pier where blear-eyed + flounders sometimes lurk in the muddy water. Let the philosopher explain + it as he will. Let the moralist reprehend it as he chooses. There is + nothing that attracts human nature more powerfully than the sport of + tempting the unknown with a fishing-line. + </p> + <p> + Those ancient anglers have set out upon an exodus from the tedious realm + of the definite, the fixed, the must-certainly-come-to-pass. They are on a + holiday in the free country of peradventure. They do not know at this + moment whether the next turn of Fortune's reel will bring up a perch or a + pickerel, a sunfish or a black bass. It may be a hideous catfish or a + squirming eel, or it may be a lake-trout, the grand prize in the Lake + George lottery. There they sit, those gray-haired lads, full of hope, yet + equally prepared for resignation; taking no thought for the morrow, and + ready to make the best of to-day; harmless and happy players at the best + of all games of chance. + </p> + <p> + "In other words," I hear some severe and sour-complexioned reader say, "in + plain language, they are a pair of old gamblers." + </p> + <p> + Yes, if it pleases you to call honest men by a bad name. But they risk + nothing that is not their own; and if they lose, they are not + impoverished. They desire nothing that belongs to other men; and if they + win, no one is robbed. If all gambling were like that, it would be + difficult to see the harm in it. Indeed, a daring moralist might even + assert, and prove by argument, that so innocent a delight in the taking of + chances is an aid to virtue. + </p> + <p> + Do you remember Martin Luther's reasoning on the subject of "excellent + large pike"? He maintains that God would never have created them so good + to the taste, if He had not meant them to be eaten. And for the same + reason I conclude that this world would never have been left so full of + uncertainties, nor human nature framed so as to find a peculiar joy and + exhilaration in meeting them bravely and cheerfully, if it had not been + divinely intended that most of our amusement and much of our education + should come from this source. + </p> + <p> + "Chance" is a disreputable word, I know. It is supposed by many pious + persons to be improper and almost blasphemous to use it. But I am not one + of those who share this verbal prejudice. I am inclined rather to believe + that it is a good word to which a bad reputation has been given. I feel + grateful to that admirable "psychologist who writes like a novelist," Mr. + William James, for his brilliant defence of it. For what does it mean, + after all, but that some things happen in a certain way which might have + happened in another way? Where is the immorality, the irreverence, the + atheism in such a supposition? Certainly God must be competent to govern a + world in which there are possibilities of various kinds, just as well as + one in which every event is inevitably determined beforehand. St. Peter + and the other fishermen-disciples on the Lake of Galilee were perfectly + free to cast their net on either side of the ship. So far as they could + see, so far as any one could see, it was a matter of chance where they + chose to cast it. But it was not until they let it down, at the Master's + word, on the right side that they had good luck. And not the least element + of their joy in the draft of fishes was that it brought a change of + fortune. + </p> + <p> + Leave the metaphysics of the question on the table for the present. As a + matter of fact, it is plain that our human nature is adapted to conditions + variable, undetermined, and hidden from our view. We are not fitted to + live in a world where a + b always equals c, and there is nothing more to + follow. The interest of life's equation arrives with the appearance of x, + the unknown quantity. A settled, unchangeable, clearly foreseeable order + of things does not suit our constitution. It tends to melancholy and a + fatty heart. Creatures of habit we are undoubtedly; but it is one of our + most fixed habits to be fond of variety. The man who is never surprised + does not know the taste of happiness, and unless the unexpected sometimes + happens to us, we are most grievously disappointed. + </p> + <p> + Much of the tediousness of highly civilized life comes from its smoothness + and regularity. To-day is like yesterday, and we think that we can predict + to-morrow. Of course we cannot really do so. The chances are still there. + But we have covered them up so deeply with the artificialities of life + that we lose sight of them. It seems as if everything in our neat little + world were arranged, and provided for, and reasonably sure to come to + pass. The best way of escape from this TAEDIUM VITAE is through a + recreation like angling, not only because it is so evidently a matter of + luck, but also because it tempts us into a wilder, freer life. It leads + almost inevitably to camping out, which is a wholesome and sanitary + imprudence. + </p> + <p> + It is curious and pleasant, to my apprehension, to observe how many people + in New England, one of whose States is called "the land of Steady Habits," + are sensible of the joy of changing them,—out of doors. These good + folk turn out from their comfortable farm-houses and their snug suburban + cottages to go a-gypsying for a fortnight among the mountains or beside + the sea. You see their white tents gleaming from the pine-groves around + the little lakes, and catch glimpses of their bathing-clothes drying in + the sun on the wiry grass that fringes the sand-dunes. Happy fugitives + from the bondage of routine! They have found out that a long journey is + not necessary to a good vacation. You may reach the Forest of Arden in a + buckboard. The Fortunate Isles are within sailing distance in a dory. And + a voyage on the river Pactolus is open to any one who can paddle a canoe. + </p> + <p> + I was talking—or rather listening—with a barber, the other + day, in the sleepy old town of Rivermouth. He told me, in one of those + easy confidences which seem to make the razor run more smoothly, that it + had been the custom of his family, for some twenty years past, to forsake + their commodious dwelling on Anchor Street every summer, and emigrate six + miles, in a wagon to Wallis Sands, where they spent the month of August + very merrily under canvas. Here was a sensible household for you! They did + not feel bound to waste a year's income on a four weeks' holiday. They + were not of those foolish folk who run across the sea, carefully carrying + with them the same tiresome mind that worried them at home. They got a + change of air by making an alteration of life. They escaped from the land + of Egypt by stepping out into the wilderness and going a-fishing. + </p> + <p> + The people who always live in houses, and sleep on beds, and walk on + pavements, and buy their food from butchers and bakers and grocers, are + not the most blessed inhabitants of this wide and various earth. The + circumstances of their existence are too mathematical and secure for + perfect contentment. They live at second or third hand. They are boarders + in the world. Everything is done for them by somebody else. + </p> + <p> + It is almost impossible for anything very interesting to happen to them. + They must get their excitement out of the newspapers, reading of the + hairbreadth escapes and moving accidents that befall people in real life. + What do these tame ducks really know of the adventure of living? If the + weather is bad, they are snugly housed. If it is cold, there is a furnace + in the cellar. If they are hungry, the shops are near at hand. It is all + as dull, flat, stale, and unprofitable as adding up a column of figures. + They might as well be brought up in an incubator. + </p> + <p> + But when man abides in tents, after the manner of the early patriarchs, + the face of the world is renewed. The vagaries of the clouds become + significant. You watch the sky with a lover's look, eager to know whether + it will smile or frown. When you lie at night upon your bed of boughs and + hear the rain pattering on the canvas close above your head, you wonder + whether it is a long storm or only a shower. + </p> + <p> + The rising wind shakes the tent-flaps. Are the pegs well driven down and + the cords firmly fastened? You fall asleep again and wake later, to hear + the rain drumming still more loudly on the tight cloth, and the big breeze + snoring through the forest, and the waves plunging along the beach. A + stormy day? Well, you must cut plenty of wood and keep the camp-fire + glowing, for it will be hard to start it up again, if you let it get too + low. There is little use in fishing or hunting in such a storm. But there + is plenty to do in the camp: guns to be cleaned, tackle to be put in + order, clothes to be mended, a good story of adventure to be read, a + belated letter to be written to some poor wretch in a summer hotel, a game + of hearts or cribbage to be played, or a hunting-trip to be planned for + the return of fair weather. The tent is perfectly dry. A little trench dug + around it carries off the surplus water, and luckily it is pitched with + the side to the lake, so that you get the pleasant heat of the fire + without the unendurable smoke. Cooking in the rain has its disadvantages. + But how good the supper tastes when it is served up on a tin plate, with + an empty box for a table and a roll of blankets at the foot of the bed for + a seat! + </p> + <p> + A day, two days, three days, the storm may continue, according to your + luck. I have been out in the woods for a fortnight without a drop of rain + or a sign of dust. Again, I have tented on the shore of a big lake for a + week, waiting for an obstinate tempest to pass by. + </p> + <p> + Look now, just at nightfall: is there not a little lifting and breaking of + the clouds in the west, a little shifting of the wind toward a better + quarter? You go to bed with cheerful hopes. A dozen times in the darkness + you are half awake, and listening drowsily to the sounds of the storm. Are + they waxing or waning? Is that louder pattering a new burst of rain, or is + it only the plumping of the big drops as they are shaken from the trees? + See, the dawn has come, and the gray light glimmers through the canvas. In + a little while you will know your fate. + </p> + <p> + Look! There is a patch of bright yellow radiance on the peak of the tent. + The shadow of a leaf dances over it. The sun must be shining. Good luck! + and up with you, for it is a glorious morning. + </p> + <p> + The woods are glistening as fresh and fair as if they had been new-created + overnight. The water sparkles, and tiny waves are dancing and splashing + all along the shore. Scarlet berries of the mountain-ash hang around the + lake. A pair of kingfishers dart back and forth across the bay, in flashes + of living blue. A black eagle swings silently around his circle, far up in + the cloudless sky. The air is full of pleasant sounds, but there is no + noise. The world is full of joyful life, but there is no crowd and no + confusion. There is no factory chimney to darken the day with its smoke, + no trolley-car to split the silence with its shriek and smite the + indignant ear with the clanging of its impudent bell. No lumberman's axe + has robbed the encircling forests of their glory of great trees. No fires + have swept over the hills and left behind them the desolation of a bristly + landscape. All is fresh and sweet, calm and clear and bright. + </p> + <p> + 'Twas rather a rude jest of Nature, that tempest of yesterday. But if you + have taken it in good part, you are all the more ready for her caressing + mood to-day. And now you must be off to get your dinner—not to order + it at a shop, but to look for it in the woods and waters. You are ready to + do your best with rod or gun. You will use all the skill you have as + hunter or fisherman. But what you shall find, and whether you shall + subsist on bacon and biscuit, or feast on trout and partridges, is, after + all, a matter of luck. + </p> + <p> + I profess that it appears to me not only pleasant, but also salutary, to + be in this condition. It brings us home to the plain realities of life; it + teaches us that a man ought to work before he eats; it reminds us that, + after he has done all he can, he must still rely upon a mysterious bounty + for his daily bread. It says to us, in homely and familiar words, that + life was meant to be uncertain, that no man can tell what a day will bring + forth, and that it is the part of wisdom to be prepared for + disappointments and grateful for all kinds of small mercies. + </p> + <p> + There is a story in that fragrant book, THE LITTLE FLOWERS OF ST. FRANCIS, + which I wish to transcribe here, without tying a moral to it, lest any one + should accuse me of preaching. + </p> + <p> + "Hence [says the quaint old chronicler], having assigned to his companions + the other parts of the world, St. Francis, taking Brother Maximus as his + comrade, set forth toward the province of France. And coming one day to a + certain town, and being very hungry, they begged their bread as they went, + according to the rule of their order, for the love of God. And St. Francis + went through one quarter of the town, and Brother Maximus through another. + But forasmuch as St. Francis was a man mean and low of stature, and hence + was reputed a vile beggar by such as knew him not, he only received a few + scanty crusts and mouthfuls of dry bread. But to Brother Maximus, who was + large and well favoured, were given good pieces and big, and an abundance + of bread, yea, whole loaves. Having thus begged, they met together without + the town to eat, at a place where there was a clear spring and a fair + large stone, upon which each spread forth the gifts that he had received. + And St. Francis, seeing that the pieces of bread begged by Brother Maximus + were bigger and better than his own, rejoiced greatly, saying, 'Oh, + Brother Maximus, we are not worthy of so great a treasure.' As he repeated + these words many times, Brother Maximus made answer: 'Father, how can you + talk of treasures when there is such great poverty and such lack of all + things needful? Here is neither napkin nor knife, neither board nor + trencher, neither house nor table, neither man-servant nor maid-servant.' + St. Francis replied: 'And this is what I reckon a great treasure, where + naught is made ready by human industry, but all that is here is prepared + by Divine Providence, as is plainly set forth in the bread which we have + begged, in the table of fair stone, and in the spring of clear water. And + therefore I would that we should pray to God that He teach us with all our + hearts to love the treasure of holy poverty, which is so noble a thing, + and whose servant is God the Lord.'" + </p> + <p> + I know of but one fairer description of a repast in the open air; and that + is where we are told how certain poor fishermen, coming in very weary + after a night of toil (and one of them very wet after swimming ashore), + found their Master standing on the bank of the lake waiting for them. But + it seems that he must have been busy in their behalf while he was waiting; + for there was a bright fire of coals burning on the shore, and a goodly + fish broiling thereon, and bread to eat with it. And when the Master had + asked them about their fishing, he said, "Come, now, and get your + breakfast." So they sat down around the fire, and with his own hands he + served them with the bread and the fish. + </p> + <p> + Of all the banquets that have ever been given upon earth, that is the one + in which I would rather have had a share. + </p> + <p> + But it is now time that we should return to our fishing. And let us + observe with gratitude that almost all of the pleasures that are connected + with this pursuit—its accompaniments and variations, which run along + with the tune and weave an embroidery of delight around it—have an + accidental and gratuitous quality about them. They are not to be counted + upon beforehand. They are like something that is thrown into a purchase by + a generous and open-handed dealer, to make us pleased with our bargain and + inclined to come back to the same shop. + </p> + <p> + If I knew, for example, before setting out for a day on the brook, + precisely what birds I should see, and what pretty little scenes in the + drama of woodland life were to be enacted before my eyes, the expedition + would lose more than half its charm. But, in fact, it is almost entirely a + matter of luck, and that is why it never grows tiresome. + </p> + <p> + The ornithologist knows pretty well where to look for the birds, and he + goes directly to the places where he can find them, and proceeds to study + them intelligently and systematically. But the angler who idles down the + stream takes them as they come, and all his observations have a flavour of + surprise in them. + </p> + <p> + He hears a familiar song,—one that he has often heard at a distance, + but never identified,—a loud, cheery, rustic cadence sounding from a + low pine-tree close beside him. He looks up carefully through the needles + and discovers a hooded warbler, a tiny, restless creature, dressed in + green and yellow, with two white feathers in its tail, like the ends of a + sash, and a glossy little black bonnet drawn closely about its golden + head. He will never forget that song again. It will make the woods seem + homelike to him, many a time, as he hears it ringing through the + afternoon, like the call of a small country girl playing at hide-and-seek: + "See ME; here I BE." + </p> + <p> + Another day he sits down on a mossy log beside a cold, trickling spring to + eat his lunch. It has been a barren day for birds. Perhaps he has fallen + into the fault of pursuing his sport too intensely, and tramped along the + stream looking for nothing but fish. Perhaps this part of the grove has + really been deserted by its feathered inhabitants, scared away by a + prowling hawk or driven out by nest-hunters. But now, without notice, the + luck changes. A surprise-party of redstarts breaks into full play around + him. All through the dark-green shadow of the hemlocks they flash like + little candles—CANDELITAS, the Cubans call them. Their brilliant + markings of orange and black, and their fluttering, airy, graceful + movements, make them most welcome visitors. There is no bird in the bush + easier to recognize or pleasanter to watch. They run along the branches + and dart and tumble through the air in fearless chase of invisible flies + and moths. All the time they keep unfolding and furling their rounded + tails, spreading them out and waving them and closing them suddenly, just + as the Cuban girls manage their fans. In fact, the redstarts are the tiny + fantail pigeons of the forest. + </p> + <p> + There are other things about the birds, besides their musical talents and + their good looks, that the fisherman has a chance to observe on his lucky + days. He may sea something of their courage and their devotion to their + young. + </p> + <p> + I suppose a bird is the bravest creature that lives, in spite of its + natural timidity. From which we may learn that true courage is not + incompatible with nervousness, and that heroism does not mean the absence + of fear, but the conquest of it. Who does not remember the first time that + he ever came upon a hen-partridge with her brood, as he was strolling + through the woods in June? How splendidly the old bird forgets herself in + her efforts to defend and hide her young! + </p> + <p> + Smaller birds are no less daring. One evening last summer I was walking up + the Ristigouche from Camp Harmony to fish for salmon at Mowett's Rock, + where my canoe was waiting for me. As I stepped out from a thicket on to + the shingly bank of the river, a spotted sandpiper teetered along before + me, followed by three young ones. Frightened at first, the mother flew out + a few feet over the water. But the piperlings could not fly, having no + feathers; and they crept under a crooked log. I rolled the log over very + gently and took one of the cowering creatures into my hand—a tiny, + palpitating scrap of life, covered with soft gray down, and peeping + shrilly, like a Liliputian chicken. And now the mother was transformed. + Her fear was changed into fury. She was a bully, a fighter, an Amazon in + feathers. She flew at me with loud cries, dashing herself almost into my + face. I was a tyrant, a robber, a kidnapper, and she called heaven to + witness that she would never give up her offspring without a struggle. + Then she changed her tactics and appealed to my baser passions. She fell + to the ground and fluttered around me as if her wing were broken. "Look!" + she seemed to say, "I am bigger than that poor little baby. If you must + eat something, eat me! My wing is lame. I can't fly. You can easily catch + me. Let that little bird go!" And so I did; and the whole family + disappeared in the bushes as if by magic. I wondered whether the mother + was saying to herself, after the manner of her sex, that men are stupid + things, after all, and no match for the cleverness of a female who stoops + to deception in a righteous cause. + </p> + <p> + Now, that trivial experience was what I call a piece of good luck—for + me, and, in the event, for the sandpiper. But it is doubtful whether it + would be quite so fresh and pleasant in the remembrance, if it had not + also fallen to my lot to take two uncommonly good salmon on that same + evening, in a dry season. + </p> + <p> + Never believe a fisherman when he tells you that he does not care about + the fish he catches. He may say that he angles only for the pleasure of + being out-of-doors, and that he is just as well contented when he takes + nothing as when he makes a good catch. He may think so, but it is not + true. He is not telling a deliberate falsehood. He is only assuming an + unconscious pose, and indulging in a delicate bit of self-flattery. Even + if it were true, it would not be at all to his credit. + </p> + <p> + Watch him on that lucky day when he comes home with a full basket of trout + on his shoulder, or a quartette of silver salmon covered with green + branches in the bottom of the canoe. His face is broader than it was when + he went out, and there is a sparkle of triumph in his eye. "It is naught, + it is naught," he says, in modest depreciation of his triumph. But you + shall see that he lingers fondly about the place where the fish are + displayed upon the grass, and does not fail to look carefully at the + scales when they are weighed, and has an attentive ear for the comments of + admiring spectators. You shall find, moreover, that he is not unwilling to + narrate the story of the capture—how the big fish rose short, four + times, to four different flies, and finally took a small Black Dose, and + played all over the pool, and ran down a terribly stiff rapid to the next + pool below, and sulked for twenty minutes, and had to be stirred up with + stones, and made such a long fight that, when he came in at last, the hold + of the hook was almost worn through, and it fell out of his mouth as he + touched the shore. Listen to this tale as it is told, with endless + variations, by every man who has brought home a fine fish, and you will + perceive that the fisherman does care for his luck, after all. + </p> + <p> + And why not? I am no friend to the people who receive the bounties of + Providence without visible gratitude. When the sixpence falls into your + hat, you may laugh. When the messenger of an unexpected blessing takes you + by the hand and lifts you up and bids you walk, you may leap and run and + sing for joy, even as the lame man, whom St. Peter healed, skipped piously + and rejoiced aloud as he passed through the Beautiful Gate of the Temple. + There is no virtue in solemn indifference. Joy is just as much a duty as + beneficence is. Thankfulness is the other side of mercy. + </p> + <p> + When you have good luck in anything, you ought to be glad. Indeed, if you + are not glad, you are not really lucky. + </p> + <p> + But boasting and self-glorification I would have excluded, and most of all + from the behaviour of the angler. He, more than other men, is dependent + for his success upon the favour of an unseen benefactor. Let his skill and + industry be never so great, he can do nothing unless LA BONNE CHANCE comes + to him. + </p> + <p> + I was once fishing on a fair little river, the P'tit Saguenay, with two + excellent anglers and pleasant companions, H. E. G—— and C. S. + D——. They had done all that was humanly possible to secure + good sport. The stream had been well preserved. They had boxes full of + beautiful flies, and casting-lines imported from England, and a rod for + every fish in the river. But the weather was "dour," and the water + "drumly," and every day the lumbermen sent a "drive" of ten thousand + spruce logs rushing down the flooded stream. For three days we had not + seen a salmon, and on the fourth, despairing, we went down to angle for + sea-trout in the tide of the greater Saguenay. There, in the salt water, + where men say the salmon never take the fly, H. E. G——, + fishing with a small trout-rod, a poor, short line, and an ancient red + ibis of the common kind, rose and hooked a lordly salmon of at least + five-and-thirty pounds. Was not this pure luck? + </p> + <p> + Pride is surely the most unbecoming of all vices in a fisherman. For + though intelligence and practice and patience and genius, and many other + noble things which modesty forbids him to mention, enter into his pastime, + so that it is, as Izaak Walton has firmly maintained, an art; yet, because + fortune still plays a controlling hand in the game, its net results should + never be spoken of with a haughty and vain spirit. Let not the angler + imitate Timoleon, who boasted of his luck and lost it. It is tempting + Providence to print the record of your wonderful catches in the sporting + newspapers; or at least, if it must be done, there should stand at the + head of the column some humble, thankful motto, like "NON NOBIS, DOMINE." + Even Father Izaak, when he has a fish on his line, says, with a due sense + of human limitations, "There is a trout now, and a good one too, IF I CAN + BUT HOLD HIM!" + </p> + <p> + This reminds me that we left H. E. G——, a few sentences back, + playing his unexpected salmon, on a trout-rod, in the Saguenay. Four times + that great fish leaped into the air; twice he suffered the pliant reed to + guide him toward the shore, and twice ran out again to deeper water. Then + his spirit awoke within him: he bent the rod like a willow wand, dashed + toward the middle of the river, broke the line as if it had been + pack-thread, and sailed triumphantly away to join the white porpoises that + were tumbling in the tide. "WHE-E-EW," they said, "WHE-E-EW! PSHA-A-AW!" + blowing out their breath in long, soft sighs as they rolled about like + huge snowballs in the black water. But what did H. E. G—— say? + He sat him quietly down upon a rock and reeled in the remnant of his line, + uttering these remarkable and Christian words: "Those porpoises," said he, + "describe the situation rather mildly. But it was good fun while it + lasted." + </p> + <p> + Again I remembered a saying of Walton: "Well, Scholar, you must endure + worse luck sometimes, or you will never make a good angler." + </p> + <p> + Or a good man, either, I am sure. For he who knows only how to enjoy, and + not to endure, is ill-fitted to go down the stream of life through such a + world as this. + </p> + <p> + I would not have you to suppose, gentle reader, that in discoursing of + fisherman's luck I have in mind only those things which may be taken with + a hook. It is a parable of human experience. I have been thinking, for + instance, of Walton's life as well as of his angling: of the losses and + sufferings that he, the firm Royalist, endured when the Commonwealth men + came marching into London town; of the consoling days that were granted to + him, in troublous times, on the banks of the Lea and the Dove and the New + River, and the good friends that he made there, with whom he took sweet + counsel in adversity; of the little children who played in his house for a + few years, and then were called away into the silent land where he could + hear their voices no longer. I was thinking how quietly and peaceably he + lived through it all, not complaining nor desponding, but trying to do his + work well, whether he was keeping a shop or writing hooks, and seeking to + prove himself an honest man and a cheerful companion, and never scorning + to take with a thankful heart such small comforts and recreations as came + to him. + </p> + <p> + It is a plain, homely, old-fashioned meditation, reader, but not + unprofitable. When I talk to you of fisherman's luck, I do not forget that + there are deeper things behind it. I remember that what we call our + fortunes, good or ill, are but the wise dealings and distributions of a + Wisdom higher, and a Kindness greater, than our own. And I suppose that + their meaning is that we should learn, by all the uncertainties of our + life, even the smallest, how to be brave and steady and temperate and + hopeful, whatever comes, because we believe that behind it all there lies + a purpose of good, and over it all there watches a providence of blessing. + </p> + <p> + In the school of life many branches of knowledge are taught. But the only + philosophy that amounts to anything, after all, is just the secret of + making friends with our luck. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE THRILLING MOMENT + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "In angling, as in all other recreations into which + excitement enters, we have to be on our guard, so that we + can at any moment throw a weight of self-control into the + scale against misfortune; and happily we can study to some + purpose, both to increase our pleasure in success and to + lessen our distress caused by what goes ill. It is not only + in cases of great disasters, however, that the angler needs + self-control. He is perpetually called upon to use it to + withstand small exasperations." + + —SIR EDWARD GREY: Fly-Fishing. +</pre> + <p> + Every moment of life, I suppose, is more or less of a turning-point. + Opportunities are swarming around us all the time, thicker than gnats at + sundown. We walk through a cloud of chances, and if we were always + conscious of them they would worry us almost to death. + </p> + <p> + But happily our sense of uncertainty is soothed and cushioned by habit, so + that we can live comfortably with it. Only now and then, by way of special + excitement, it starts up wide awake. We perceive how delicately our + fortune is poised and balanced on the pivot of a single incident. We get a + peep at the oscillating needle, and, because we have happened to see it + tremble, we call our experience a crisis. + </p> + <p> + The meditative angler is not exempt from these sensational periods. There + are times when all the uncertainty of his chosen pursuit seems to condense + itself into one big chance, and stand out before him like a salmon on the + top wave of a rapid. He sees that his luck hangs by a single strand, and + he cannot tell whether it will hold or break. This is his thrilling + moment, and he never forgets it. + </p> + <p> + Mine came to me in the autumn of 1894, on the banks of the Unpronounceable + River, in the Province of Quebec. It was the last day, of the open season + for ouananiche, and we had set our hearts on catching some good fish to + take home with us. We walked up from the mouth of the river, four + preposterously long and rough miles, to the famous fishing-pool, "LA PLACE + DE PECHE A BOIVIN." It was a noble day for walking; the air was clear and + crisp, and all the hills around us were glowing with the crimson foliage + of those little bushes which God created to make burned lands look + beautiful. The trail ended in a precipitous gully, down which we scrambled + with high hopes, and fishing-rods unbroken, only to find that the river + was in a condition which made angling absurd if not impossible. + </p> + <p> + There must have been a cloud-burst among the mountains, for the water was + coming down in flood. The stream was bank-full, gurgling and eddying out + among the bushes, and rushing over the shoal where the fish used to lie, + in a brown torrent ten feet deep. Our last day with the land-locked salmon + seemed destined to be a failure, and we must wait eight months before we + could have another. There were three of us in the disappointment, and we + shared it according to our temperaments. + </p> + <p> + Paul virtuously resolved not to give up while there was a chance left, and + wandered down-stream to look for an eddy where he might pick up a small + fish. Ferdinand, our guide, resigned himself without a sigh to the + consolation of eating blueberries, which he always did with great + cheerfulness. But I, being more cast down than either of my comrades, + sought out a convenient seat among the rocks, and, adapting my anatomy as + well as possible to the irregularities of nature's upholstery, pulled from + my pocket AN AMATEUR ANGLER'S DAYS IN DOVE DALE, and settled down to read + myself into a Christian frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + Before beginning, my eyes roved sadly over the pool once more. It was but + a casual glance. It lasted only for an instant. But in that fortunate + fragment of time I distinctly saw the broad tail of a big ouananiche rise + and disappear in the swift water at the very head of the pool. + </p> + <p> + Immediately the whole aspect of affairs was changed. Despondency vanished, + and the river glittered with the beams of rising hope. + </p> + <p> + Such is the absurd disposition of some anglers. They never see a fish + without believing that they can catch him; but if they see no fish, they + are inclined to think that the river is empty and the world hollow. + </p> + <p> + I said nothing to my companions. It would have been unkind to disturb them + with expectations which might never be realized. My immediate duty was to + get within casting distance of that salmon as soon as possible. + </p> + <p> + The way along the shore of the pool was difficult. The bank was very + steep, and the rocks by the river's edge were broken and glibbery. + Presently I came to a sheer wall of stone, perhaps thirty feet high, + rising directly from the deep water. + </p> + <p> + There was a tiny ledge or crevice running part of the way across the face + of this wall, and by this four-inch path I edged along, holding my rod in + one hand, and clinging affectionately with the other to such clumps of + grass and little bushes as I could find. There was one small huckleberry + plant to which I had a particular attachment. It was fortunately a firm + little bush, and as I held fast to it I remembered Tennyson's poem which + begins + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Flower in the crannied wall," +</pre> + <p> + and reflected that if I should succeed in plucking out this flower, "root + and all," it would probably result in an even greater increase of + knowledge than the poet contemplated. + </p> + <p> + The ledge in the rock now came to an end. But below me in the pool there + was a sunken reef; and on this reef a long log had caught, with one end + sticking out of the water, within jumping distance. It was the only + chance. To go back would have been dangerous. An angler with a large + family dependent upon him for support has no right to incur unnecessary + perils. + </p> + <p> + Besides, the fish was waiting for me at the upper end of the pool! + </p> + <p> + So I jumped; landed on the end of the log; felt it settle slowly down; ran + along it like a small boy on a seesaw, and leaped off into shallow water + just as the log rolled from the ledge and lunged out into the stream. + </p> + <p> + It went wallowing through the pool and down the rapid like a playful + hippopotamus. I watched it with interest and congratulated myself that I + was no longer embarked upon it. On that craft a voyage down the + Unpronounceable River would have been short but far from merry. The "all + ashore" bell was not rung early enough. I just got off, with not half a + second to spare. + </p> + <p> + But now all was well, for I was within reach of the fish. A little + scrambling over the rocks brought me to a point where I could easily cast + over him. He was lying in a swift, smooth, narrow channel between two + large stones. It was a snug resting-place, and no doubt he would remain + there for some time. So I took out my fly-book and prepared to angle for + him according to the approved rules of the art. + </p> + <p> + Nothing is more foolish in sport than the habit of precipitation. And yet + it is a fault to which I am singularly subject. As a boy, in Brooklyn, I + never came in sight of the Capitoline Skating Pond, after a long ride in + the horse-cars, without breaking into a run along the board walk, buckling + on my skates in a furious hurry, and flinging myself impetuously upon the + ice, as if I feared that it would melt away before I could reach it. Now + this, I confess, is a grievous defect, which advancing years have not + entirely cured; and I found it necessary to take myself firmly, as it + were, by the mental coat-collar, and resolve not to spoil the chance of + catching the only ouananiche in the Unpronounceable River by undue haste + in fishing for him. + </p> + <p> + I carefully tested a brand-new leader, and attached it to the line with + great deliberation and the proper knot. Then I gave my whole mind to the + important question of a wise selection of flies. + </p> + <p> + It is astonishing how much time and mental anxiety a man can spend on an + apparently simple question like this. When you are buying flies in a shop + it seems as if you never had half enough. You keep on picking out a + half-dozen of each new variety as fast as the enticing salesman shows them + to you. You stroll through the streets of Montreal or Quebec and drop in + at every fishing-tackle dealer's to see whether you can find a few more + good flies. Then, when you come to look over your collection at the + critical moment on the bank of a stream, it seems as if you had ten times + too many. And, spite of all, the precise fly that you need is not there. + </p> + <p> + You select a couple that you think fairly good, lay them down beside you + in the grass, and go on looking through the book for something better. + Failing to satisfy yourself, you turn to pick up those that you have laid + out, and find that they have mysteriously vanished from the face of the + earth. + </p> + <p> + Then you struggle with naughty words and relapse into a condition of + mental palsy. + </p> + <p> + Precipitation is a fault. But deliberation, for a person of precipitate + disposition, is a vice. + </p> + <p> + The best thing to do in such a case is to adopt some abstract theory of + action without delay, and put it into practice without hesitation. Then if + you fail, you can throw the responsibility on the theory. + </p> + <p> + Now, in regard to flies there are two theories. The old, conservative + theory is, that on a bright day you should use a dark, dull fly, because + it is less conspicuous. So I followed that theory first and put on a Great + Dun and a Dark Montreal. I cast them delicately over the fish, but he + would not look at them. + </p> + <p> + Then I perverted myself to the new, radical theory which says that on a + bright day you must use a light, gay fly, because it is more in harmony + with the sky, and therefore less noticeable. Accordingly I put on a + Professor and a Parmacheene Belle; but this combination of learning and + beauty had no attraction for the ouananiche. + </p> + <p> + Then I fell back on a theory of my own, to the effect that the ouananiche + have an aversion to red, and prefer yellow and brown. So I tried various + combinations of flies in which these colours predominated. + </p> + <p> + Then I abandoned all theories and went straight through my book, trying + something from every page, and winding up with that lure which the guides + consider infallible,—"a Jock o' Scott that cost fifty cents at + Quebec." But it was all in vain. I was ready to despair. + </p> + <p> + At this psychological moment I heard behind me a voice of hope,—the + song of a grasshopper: not one of those fat-legged, green-winged imbeciles + that feebly tumble in the summer fields, but a game grasshopper,—one + of those thin-shanked, brown-winged fellows that leap like kangaroos, and + fly like birds, and sing KRI-KAREE-KAREE-KRI in their flight. + </p> + <p> + It is not really a song, I know, but it sounds like one; and, if you had + heard that Kri-karee carolling as I chased him over the rocks, you would + have been sure that he was mocking me. + </p> + <p> + I believed that he was the predestined lure for that ouananiche; but it + was hard to persuade him to fulfill his destiny. I slapped at him with my + hat, but he was not there. I grasped at him on the bushes, and brought + away "nothing but leaves." At last he made his way to the very edge of the + water and poised himself on a stone, with his legs well tucked in for a + long leap and a bold flight to the other side of the river. It was my + final opportunity. I made a desperate grab at it and caught the + grasshopper. + </p> + <p> + My premonition proved to be correct. When that Kri-karee, invisibly + attached to my line, went floating down the stream, the ouananiche was + surprised. It was the fourteenth of September, and he had supposed the + grasshopper season was over. The unexpected temptation was too strong for + him. He rose with a rush, and in an instant I was fast to the best + land-locked salmon of the year. + </p> + <p> + But the situation was not without its embarrassments. My rod weighed only + four and a quarter ounces; the fish weighed between six and seven pounds. + The water was furious and headstrong. I had only thirty yards of line and + no landing-net. + </p> + <p> + "HOLA! FERDINAND!" I cried. "APPORTE LA NETTE, VITE! A BEAUTY! HURRY UP!" + </p> + <p> + I thought it must be an hour while he was making his way over the hill, + through the underbrush, around the cliff. Again and again the fish ran out + my line almost to the last turn. A dozen times he leaped from the water, + shaking his silvery sides. Twice he tried to cut the leader across a + sunken ledge. But at last he was played out, and came in quietly towards + the point of the rock. At the same moment Ferdinand appeared with the net. + </p> + <p> + Now, the use of the net is really the most difficult part of angling. And + Ferdinand is the best netsman in the Lake St. John country. He never makes + the mistake of trying to scoop a fish in motion. He does not grope around + with aimless, futile strokes as if he were feeling for something in the + dark. He does not entangle the dropper-fly in the net and tear the + tail-fly out of the fish's mouth. He does not get excited. + </p> + <p> + He quietly sinks the net in the water, and waits until he can see the fish + distinctly, lying perfectly still and within reach. Then he makes a swift + movement, like that of a mower swinging the scythe, takes the fish into + the net head-first, and lands him without a slip. + </p> + <p> + I felt sure that Ferdinand was going to do the trick in precisely this way + with my ouananiche. Just at the right instant he made one quick, steady + swing of the arms, and—the head of the net broke clean off the + handle and went floating away with the fish in it! + </p> + <p> + All seemed to be lost. But Ferdinand was equal to the occasion. He seized + a long, crooked stick that lay in a pile of driftwood on the shore, sprang + into the water up to his waist, caught the net as it drifted past, and + dragged it to land, with the ultimate ouananiche, the prize of the season, + still glittering through its meshes. + </p> + <p> + This is the story of my most thrilling moment as an angler. + </p> + <p> + But which was the moment of the deepest thrill? + </p> + <p> + Was it when the huckleberry bush saved me from a watery grave, or when the + log rolled under my feet and started down the river? Was it when the fish + rose, or when the net broke, or when the long stick captured it? + </p> + <p> + No, it was none of these. It was when the Kri-karee sat with his legs + tucked under him on the brink of the stream. That was the turning-point. + The fortunes of the day depended on the comparative quickness of the + reflex action of his neural ganglia and mine. That was the thrilling + moment. + </p> + <p> + I see it now. A crisis is really the commonest thing in the world. The + reason why life sometimes seems dull to us is because we do not perceive + the importance and the excitement of getting bait. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TALKABILITY + </h2> + <h3> + A PRELUDE AND THEME WITH VARIATIONS + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "He praises a meditative life, and with evident sincerity: + but we feel that he liked nothing so well as good talk." + + —JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: Walton. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. PRELUDE—ON AN OLD, FOOLISH MAXIM + </h2> + <p> + The inventor of the familiar maxim that "fishermen must not talk" is lost + in the mists of antiquity, and well deserves his fate. For a more foolish + rule, a conventionality more obscure and aimless in its tyranny, was never + imposed upon an innocent and honourable occupation, to diminish its + pleasure and discount its profits. Why, in the name of all that is genial, + should anglers go about their harmless sport in stealthy silence like + conspirators, or sit together in a boat, dumb, glum, and penitential, like + naughty schoolboys on the bench of disgrace? 'Tis an Omorcan superstition; + a rule without a reason; a venerable, idiotic fashion invented to repress + lively spirits and put a premium on stupidity. + </p> + <p> + For my part, I incline rather to the opinion of the Neapolitan fishermen + who maintain that a certain amount of noise, of certain kinds, is likely + to improve the fishing, and who have a particular song, very sweet and + charming, which they sing to draw the fishes around them. It is narrated, + likewise, of the good St. Brandan, that on his notable voyage from Ireland + in search of Paradise, he chanted the service for St. Peter's day so + pleasantly that a subaqueous audience of all sorts and sizes was + attracted, insomuch that the other monks began to be afraid, and begged + the abbot that he would sing a little lower, for they were not quite sure + of the intention of the congregation. Of St. Anthony of Padua it is said + that he even succeeded in persuading the fishes, in great multitudes, to + listen to a sermon; and that when it was ended (it must be noted that it + was both short and cheerful) they bowed their heads and moved their bodies + up and down with every mark of fondness and approval of what the holy + father had spoken. + </p> + <p> + If we can believe this, surely we need not be incredulous of things which + seem to be no less, but rather more, in harmony with the course of nature. + Creatures who are sensible to the attractions of a sermon can hardly be + indifferent to the charm of other kinds of discourse. I can easily imagine + a company of grayling wishing to overhear a conversation between I. W. and + his affectionate (but somewhat prodigal) son and servant, Charles Cotton; + and surely every intelligent salmon in Scotland might have been glad to + hear Christopher North and the Ettrick Shepherd bandy jests and swap + stories. As for trout,—was there one in Massachusetts that would not + have been curious to listen to the intimate opinions of Daniel Webster as + he loafed along the banks of the Marshpee,—or is there one in + Pennsylvania to-day that might not be drawn with interest and delight to + the feet of Joseph Jefferson, telling how he conceived and wrote RIP VAN + WINKLE on the banks of a trout-stream? + </p> + <p> + Fishermen must be silent? On the contrary, it is far more likely that good + talk may promote good fishing. + </p> + <p> + All this, however, goes upon the assumption that fish can hear, in the + proper sense of the word. And this, it must be confessed, is an assumption + not yet fully verified. Experienced anglers and students of fishy ways are + divided upon the question. It is beyond a doubt that all fishes, except + the very lowest forms, have ears. But then so have all men; and yet we + have the best authority for believing that there are many who "having + ears, hear not." + </p> + <p> + The ears of fishes, for the most part, are inclosed in their skull, and + have no outward opening. Water conveys sound, as every country boy knows + who has tried the experiment of diving to the bottom of the swimming-hole + and knocking two big stones together. But I doubt whether any country boy, + engaged in this interesting scientific experiment, has heard the + conversation of his friends on the bank who were engaged in hiding his + clothes. + </p> + <p> + There are many curious and more or less venerable stories to the effect + that fishes may be trained to assemble at the ringing of a bell or the + beating of a drum. Lucian, a writer of the second century, tells of a + certain lake wherein many sacred fishes were kept, of which the largest + had names given to them, and came when they were called. But Lucian was + not a man of especially good reputation, and there is an air of + improbability about his statement that the LARGEST fishes came. This is + not the custom of the largest fishes. + </p> + <p> + In the present century there was a tale of an eel in a garden-well, in + Scotland, which would come to be fed out of a spoon when the children + called him by his singularly inappropriate name of Rob Roy. This seems a + more likely story than Lucian's; at all events it comes from a more + orthodox atmosphere. But before giving it full credence, I should like to + know whether the children, when they called "Rob Roy!" stood where the eel + could see the spoon. + </p> + <p> + On the other side of the question, we may quote Mr. Ronalds, also a + Scotchman, and the learned author of THE FLY-FISHER'S ENTOMOLOGY, who + conducted a series of experiments which proved that even trout, the most + fugacious of fish, are not in the least disturbed by the discharge of a + gun, provided the flash is concealed. Mr. Henry P. Wells, the author of + THE AMERICAN SALMON ANGLER, says that he has "never been able to make a + sound in the air which seemed to produce the slightest effect upon trout + in the water." + </p> + <p> + So the controversy on the hearing of fishes continues, and the conclusion + remains open. Every man is at liberty to embrace that side which pleases + him best. You may think that the finny tribes are as sensitive to sound as + Fine Ear, in the German fairy-tale, who could hear the grass grow. Or you + may hold the opposite opinion, that they are + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Deafer than the blue-eyed cat." +</pre> + <p> + But whichever theory you adopt, in practice, if you are a wise fisherman, + you will steer a middle course, between one thing which must be left + undone and another thing which should be done. You will refrain from + stamping on the bank, or knocking on the side of the boat, or dragging the + anchor among the stones on the bottom; for when the water vibrates the + fish are likely to vanish. But you will indulge as freely as you please in + pleasant discourse with your comrade; for it is certain that fishing is + never hindered, and may even be helped, in one way or another, by good + talk. + </p> + <p> + I should therefore have no hesitation in advising any one to choose, for + companionship on an angling expedition, long or short, a person who has + the rare merit of being TALKABLE. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THEME—ON A SMALL, USEFUL VIRTUE + </h2> + <p> + "Talkable" is not a new adjective. But it needs a new definition, and the + complement of a corresponding noun. I would fain set down on paper some + observations and reflections which may serve to make its meaning clear, + and render due praise to that most excellent quality in man or woman,—especially + in anglers,—the small but useful virtue of TALKABILITY. + </p> + <p> + Robert Louis Stevenson uses the word "talkable" in one of his essays to + denote a certain distinction among the possible subjects of human speech. + There are some things, he says in effect, about which you can really talk; + and there are other things about which you cannot properly talk at all, + but only dispute, or harangue, or prose, or moralize, or chatter. + </p> + <p> + After mature consideration I have arrived at the opinion that this + distinction among the themes of speech is an illusion. It does not exist. + All subjects, "the foolish things of the world, and the weak things of the + world, and base things of the world, yea, and things that are not," may + provide matter for good talk, if only the right people are engaged in the + enterprise. I know a man who can make a description of the weather as + entertaining as a tune on the violin; and even on the threadbare theme of + the waywardness of domestic servants, I have heard a discreet woman play + the most diverting and instructive variations. + </p> + <p> + No, the quality of talkability does not mark a distinction among things; + it denotes a difference among people. It is not an attribute unequally + distributed among material objects and abstract ideas. It is a virtue + which belongs to the mind and moral character of certain persons. It is a + reciprocal human quality; active as well as passive; a power of bestowing + and receiving. + </p> + <p> + An amiable person is one who has a capacity for loving and being loved. An + affable person is one who is ready to speak and to be spoken to,—as, + for example, Milton's "affable archangel" Raphael; though it must be + confessed that he laid the chief emphasis on the active side of his + affability. A "clubable" person (to use a word which Dr. Samuel Johnson + invented but did not put into his dictionary) is one who is fit for the + familiar give and take of club-life. A talkable person, therefore, is one + whose nature and disposition invite the easy interchange of thoughts and + feelings, one in whose company it is a pleasure to talk or to be talked + to. + </p> + <p> + Now this good quality of talkability is to be distinguished, very strictly + and inflexibly, from the bad quality which imitates it and often brings it + into discredit. I mean the vice of talkativeness. That is a selfish, + one-sided, inharmonious affair, full of discomfort, and productive of most + unchristian feelings. + </p> + <p> + You may observe the operations of this vice not only in human beings, but + also in birds. All the birds in the bush can make some kind of a noise; + and most of them like to do it; and some of them like it a great deal and + do it very much. But it is not always for edification, nor are the most + vociferous and garrulous birds commonly the most pleasing. A parrot, for + instance, in your neighbour's back yard, in the summer time, when the + windows are open, is not an aid to the development of Christian character. + I knew a man who had to stay in the city all summer, and in the autumn was + asked to describe the character and social standing of a new family that + had moved into his neighbourhood. Were they "nice people," well-bred, + intelligent, respectable? "Well," said he, "I don't know what your + standards are, and would prefer not to say anything libellous; but I'll + tell you in a word,—they are the kind of people that keep a parrot." + </p> + <p> + Then there is the English Sparrow! What an insufferable chatterbox, what + an incurable scold, what a voluble and tiresome blackguard is this little + feathered cockney. There is not a sweet or pleasant word in all his + vocabulary. + </p> + <p> + I am convinced that he talks altogether of scandals and fights and + street-sweepings. + </p> + <p> + The kingdom of ornithology is divided into two departments,—real + birds and English sparrows. English sparrows are not real birds; they are + little beasts. + </p> + <p> + There was a church in Brooklyn which was once covered with a great and + spreading vine, in which the sparrows built innumerable nests. These + ungodly little birds kept up such a din that it was impossible to hear the + service of the sanctuary. The faithful clergy strained their voices to the + verge of ministerial sore throat, but the people had no peace in their + devotions until the vine was cut down, and the Anglican intruders were + evicted. + </p> + <p> + A talkative person is like an English sparrow,—a bird that cannot + sing, and will sing, and ought to be persuaded not to try to sing. But a + talkable person has the gift that belongs to the wood thrush and the veery + and the wren, the oriole and the white-throat and the rose-breasted + grosbeak, the mockingbird and the robin (sometimes); and the brown thrush; + yes, the brown thrush has it to perfection, if you can catch him alone,—the + gift of being interesting, charming, delightful, in the most off-hand and + various modes of utterance. + </p> + <p> + Talkability is not at all the same thing as eloquence. The eloquent man + surprises, overwhelms, and sometimes paralyzes us by the display of his + power. Great orators are seldom good talkers. Oratory in exercise is + masterful and jealous, and intolerant of all interruptions. Oratory in + preparation is silent, self-centred, uncommunicative. The painful truth of + this remark may be seen in the row of countenances along the president's + table at a public banquet about nine o'clock in the evening. The + bicycle-face seems unconstrained and merry by comparison with the + after-dinner-speech-face. The flow of table-talk is corked by the anxious + conception of post-prandial oratory. + </p> + <p> + Thackeray, in one of his ROUNDABOUT PAPERS, speaks of "the sin of + tall-talking," which, he says, "is the sin of schoolmasters, governesses, + critics, sermoners, and instructors of young or old people." But this is + not in accord with my observation. I should say it was rather the sin of + dilettanti who are ambitious of that high-stepping accomplishment which is + called "conversational ability." + </p> + <p> + This has usually, to my mind, something set and artificial about it, + although in its most perfect form the art almost succeeds in concealing + itself. But, at all events, ''conversation'' is talk in evening dress, + with perhaps a little powder and a touch of rouge. 'T is like one of those + wise virgins who are said to look their best by lamplight. And doubtless + this is an excellent thing, and not without its advantages. But for my + part, commend me to one who loses nothing by the early morning + illumination,—one who brings all her attractions with her when she + comes down to breakfast,—she is a very pleasant maid. + </p> + <p> + Talk is that form of human speech which is exempt from all duties, foreign + and domestic. It is the nearest thing in the world to thinking and feeling + aloud. It is necessarily not for publication,—solely an evidence of + good faith and mutual kindness. You tell me what you have seen and what + you are thinking about, because you take it for granted that it will + interest and entertain me; and you listen to my replies and the recital of + my adventures and opinions, because you know I like to tell them, and + because you find something in them, of one kind or another, that you care + to hear. It is a nice game, with easy, simple rules, and endless + possibilities of variation. And if we go into it with the right spirit, + and play it for love, without heavy stakes, the chances are that if we + happen to be fairly talkable people we shall have one of the best things + in the world,—a mighty good talk. + </p> + <p> + What is there in this anxious, hide-bound, tiresome existence of ours, + more restful and remunerative? Montaigne says, "The use of it is more + sweet than of any other action of life; and for that reason it is that, if + I were compelled to choose, I should sooner, I think, consent to lose my + sight than my hearing and speech." The very aimlessness with which it + proceeds, the serene disregard of all considerations of profit and + propriety with which it follows its wandering course, and brings up + anywhere or nowhere, to camp for the night, is one of its attractions. It + is like a day's fishing, not valuable chiefly for the fish you bring home, + but for the pleasant country through which it leads you, and the state of + personal well-being and health in which it leaves you, warmed, and + cheered, and content with life and friendship. + </p> + <p> + The order in which you set out upon a talk, the path which you pursue, the + rules which you observe or disregard, make but little difference in the + end. You may follow the advice of Immanuel Kant if you like, and begin + with the weather and the roads, and go on to current events, and wind up + with history, art, and philosophy. Or you may reverse the order if you + prefer, like that admirable talker Clarence King, who usually set sail on + some highly abstract paradox, such as "Civilization is a nervous disease," + and landed in a tale of adventure in Mexico or the Rocky Mountains. Or you + may follow the example of Edward Eggleston, who started in at the middle + and worked out at either end, and sometimes at both. It makes no + difference. If the thing is in you at all, you will find good matter for + talk anywhere along the route. Hear what Montaigne says again: "In our + discourse all subjects are alike to me; let there be neither weight nor + depth, 't is all one; there is yet grace and pertinence; all there is + tented with a mature and constant judgment, and mixed with goodness, + freedom, gayety, and friendship." + </p> + <p> + How close to the mark the old essayist sends his arrow! He is right about + the essential qualities of good talk. They are not merely intellectual. + They are moral. Goodness of heart, freedom of spirit, gayety of temper, + and friendliness of disposition,—these are four fine things, and + doubtless as acceptable to God as they are agreeable to men. The + talkability which springs out of these qualities has its roots in a good + soil. On such a plant one need not look for the poison berries of malign + discourse, nor for the Dead Sea apples of frivolous mockery. But fair + fruit will be there, pleasant to the sight and good for food, brought + forth abundantly according to the season. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. VARIATIONS—ON A PLEASANT PHRASE FROM MONTAIGNE + </h2> + <p> + Montaigne has given as our text, "Goodness, freedom, gayety, and + friendship,"—these are the conditions which produce talkability. And + on this fourfold theme we may embroider a few variations, by way of + exposition and enlargement. + </p> + <p> + GOODNESS is the first thing and the most needful. An ugly, envious, + irritable disposition is not fitted for talk. The occasions for offence + are too numerous, and the way into strife is too short and easy. A touch + of good-natured combativeness, a fondness for brisk argument, a readiness + to try a friendly bout with any comer, on any ground, is a decided + advantage in a talker. It breaks up the offensive monotony of polite + concurrence, and makes things lively. But quarrelsomeness is quite another + affair, and very fatal. + </p> + <p> + I am always a little uneasy in a discourse with the Reverend Bellicosus + Macduff. It is like playing golf on links liable to earthquakes. One never + knows when the landscape will be thrown into convulsions. Macduff has a + tendency to regard a difference of opinion as a personal insult. If he + makes a bad stroke he seems to think that the way to retrieve it is to + deliver the next one on the head of the other player. He does not tarry + for the invitation to lay on; and before you know what has happened you + find yourself in a position where you are obliged to cry, "Hold, enough!" + and to be liberally damned without any bargain to that effect. This is + discouraging, and calculated to make one wish that human intercourse might + be put, as far as Macduff is concerned, upon the gold basis of silence. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, what a delight it was to talk with that old worthy, + Chancellor Howard Crosby. He was a fighting man for four or five + generations hack, Dutch on one side, English on the other. But there was + not one little drop of gall in his blood. His opinions were fixed to a + degree; he loved to do battle for them; he never changed them—at + least never in the course of the same discussion. He admired and respected + a gallant adversary, and urged him on, with quips and puns and daring + assaults and unqualified statements, to do his best. Easy victories were + not to his taste. Even if he joined with you in laying out some common + falsehood for burial, you might be sure that before the affair was + concluded there would be every prospect of what an Irishman would call "an + elegant wake." If you stood up against him on one of his favorite subjects + of discussion you must be prepared for hot work. You would have to take + off your coat. But when the combat was over he would be the man to help + you on with it again; and you would walk home together arm in arm, through + the twilight, smoking the pipe of peace. Talk like that does good. It + quickens the beating of the heart, and leaves no scars upon it. + </p> + <p> + But this manly spirit, which loves + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "To drink delight of battle with its peers," +</pre> + <p> + is a very different thing from that mean, bad, hostile temper which loves + to inflict wounds and injuries just for the sake of showing power, and + which is never so happy as when it is making some one wince. There are + such people in the world, and sometimes their brilliancy tempts us to + forget their malignancy. But to have much converse with them is as if we + should make playmates of rattlesnakes for their grace of movement and + swiftness of stroke. + </p> + <p> + I knew a man once (I will not name him even with an initial) who was + malignant to the core. Learned, industrious, accomplished, he kept all his + talents at the service of a perfect genius for hatred. If you crossed his + path but once, he would never cease to curse you. The grave might close + over you, but he would revile your epitaph and mock at your memory. It was + not even necessary that you should do anything to incur his enmity. It was + enough to be upright and sincere and successful, to waken the wrath of + this Shimei. Integrity was an offence to him, and excellence of any kind + filled him with spleen. There was no good cause within his horizon that he + did not give a bad word to, and no decent man in the community whom he did + not try either to use or to abuse. To listen to him or to read what he had + written was to learn to think a little worse of every one that he + mentioned, and worst of all of him. He had the air of a gentleman, the + vocabulary of a scholar, the style of a Junius, and the heart of a + Thersites. + </p> + <p> + Talk, in such company, is impossible. The sense of something evil, lurking + beneath the play of wit, is like the knowledge that there are snakes in + the grass. Every step must be taken with fear. But the real pleasure of a + walk through the meadow comes from the feeling of security, of ease, of + safe and happy abandon to the mood of the moment. This ungirdled and + unguarded felicity in mutual discourse depends, after all, upon the + assurance of real goodness in your companion. I do not mean a stiff + impeccability of conduct. Prudes and Pharisees are poor comrades. I mean + simply goodness of heart, the wholesome, generous, kindly quality which + thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, hopeth all things, endureth + all things, and wisheth well to all men. Where you feel this quality you + can let yourself go, in the ease of hearty talk. + </p> + <p> + FREEDOM is the second note that Montaigne strikes, and it is essential to + the harmony of talking. Very careful, prudent, precise persons are seldom + entertaining in familiar speech. They are like tennis players in too fine + clothes. They think more of their costume than of the game. + </p> + <p> + A mania for absolutely correct pronunciation is fatal. The people who are + afflicted with this painful ailment are as anxious about their utterance + as dyspeptics about their diet. They move through their sentences as + delicately as Agag walked. Their little airs of nicety, their starched + cadences and frilled phrases seem as if they had just been taken out of a + literary bandbox. If perchance you happen to misplace an accent, you shall + see their eyebrows curl up like an interrogation mark, and they will ask + you what authority you have for that pronunciation. As if, forsooth, a man + could not talk without book-license! As if he must have a permit from some + dusty lexicon before he can take a good word into his mouth and speak it + out like the people with whom he has lived! + </p> + <p> + The truth is that the man who is very particular not to commit himself, in + pronunciation or otherwise, and talks as if his remarks were being taken + down in shorthand, and shudders at the thought of making a mistake, will + hardly be able to open your heart or let out the best that is in his own. + </p> + <p> + Reserve and precision are a great protection to overrated reputations; but + they are death to talk. + </p> + <p> + In talk it is not correctness of grammar nor elegance of enunciation that + charms us; it is spirit, VERVE, the sudden turn of humour, the keen, + pungent taste of life. For this reason a touch of dialect, a flavour of + brogue, is delightful. Any dialect is classic that has conveyed beautiful + thoughts. Who that ever talked with the poet Tennyson, when he let himself + go, over the pipes, would miss the savour of his broad-rolling + Lincolnshire vowels, now heightening the humour, now deepening the pathos, + of his genuine manly speech? There are many good stories lingering in the + memories of those who knew Dr. James McCosh, the late president of + Princeton University,—stories too good, I fear, to get into a + biography; but the best of them, in print, would not have the snap and + vigour of the poorest of them, in talk, with his own inimitable + Scotch-Irish brogue to set it forth. + </p> + <p> + A brogue is not a fault. It is a beauty, an heirloom, a distinction. A + local accent is like a landed inheritance; it marks a man's place in the + world, tells where he comes from. Of course it is possible to have too + much of it. A man does not need to carry the soil of his whole farm around + with him on his boots. But, within limits, the accent of a native region + is delightful. 'T is the flavour of heather in the grouse, the taste of + wild herbs and evergreen-buds in the venison. I like the maple-sugar tang + of the Vermonter's sharp-edged speech; the round, full-waisted r's of + Pennsylvania and Ohio; the soft, indolent vowels of the South. One of the + best talkers now living is a schoolmaster from Virginia, Colonel Gordon + McCabe. I once crossed the ocean with him on a stream of stories that + reached from Liverpool to New York. He did not talk in the least like a + book. He talked like a Virginian. + </p> + <p> + When Montaigne mentions GAYETY as the third clement of satisfying + discourse, I fancy he does not mean mere fun, though that has its value at + the right time and place. But there is another quality which is far more + valuable and always fit. Indeed it underlies the best fun and makes it + wholesome. It is cheerfulness, the temper which makes the best of things + and squeezes the little drops of honey even out of thistle-blossoms. I + think this is what Montaigne meant. Certainly it is what he had. + </p> + <p> + Cheerfulness is the background of all good talk. A sense of humour is a + means of grace. With it I have heard a pleasant soul make even that most + perilous of all subjects, the description of a long illness, entertaining. + The various physicians moved through the recital as excellent comedians, + and the medicines appeared like a succession of timely jests. + </p> + <p> + There is no occasion upon which this precious element of talkability comes + out stronger than when we are on a journey. Travel with a cheerless and + easily discouraged companion is an unadulterated misery. But a cheerful + comrade is better than a waterproof coat and a foot-warmer. + </p> + <p> + I remember riding once with my lady Graygown fifteen miles through a cold + rainstorm, in an open buckboard, over the worst road in the world, from + LAC A LA BELLE RIVIERE to the Metabetchouan River. Such was the + cheerfulness of her ejaculations (the only possible form of talk) that we + arrived at our destination as warm and merry as if we had been sitting + beside a roaring camp-fire. + </p> + <p> + But after all, the very best thing in good talk, and the thing that helps + it most, is FRIENDSHIP. How it dissolves the barriers that divide us, and + loosens all constraint, and diffuses itself like some fine old cordial + through all the veins of life—this feeling that we understand and + trust each other, and wish each other heartily well! Everything into which + it really comes is good. It transforms letter-writing from a task into a + pleasure. It makes music a thousand times more sweet. The people who play + and sing not at us, but TO us,—how delightful it is to listen to + them! Yes, there is a talkability that can express itself even without + words. There is an exchange of thought and feeling which is happy alike in + speech and in silence. It is quietness pervaded with friendship. + </p> + <p> + Having come thus far in the exposition of Montaigne, I shall conclude with + an opinion of my own, even though I cannot quote a sentence of his to back + it. + </p> + <p> + The one person of all the world in whom talkability is most desirable, and + talkativeness least endurable, is a wife. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A WILD STRAWBERRY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Such is the story of the Boblink; once spiritual, musical, + admired, the joy of the meadows, and the favourite bird of + spring; finally a gross little sensualist who expiates his + sensuality in the larder. His story contains a moral, worthy + the attention of all little birds and little boys; warning + them to keep to those refined and intellectual pursuits + which raised him to so high a pitch of popularity during the + early part of his career; but to eschew all tendency to that + gross and dissipated indulgence, which brought this mistaken + little bird to an untimely end." + + —WASHINGTON IRVING: Wolfert's Roost. +</pre> + <p> + The Swiftwater brook was laughing softly to itself as it ran through a + strip of hemlock forest on the edge of the Woodlings' farm. Among the + evergreen branches overhead the gayly-dressed warblers,—little + friends of the forest,—were flitting to and fro, lisping their June + songs of contented love: milder, slower, lazier notes than those in which + they voiced the amourous raptures of May. Prince's Pine and golden + loose-strife and pink laurel and blue hare-bells and purple-fringed + orchids, and a score of lovely flowers were all abloom. The late spring + had hindered some; the sudden heats of early summer had hastened others; + and now they seemed to come out all together, as if Nature had suddenly + tilted up her cornucopia and poured forth her treasures in spendthrift + joy. + </p> + <p> + I lay on a mossy bank at the foot of a tree, filling my pipe after a + frugal lunch, and thinking how hard it would be to find in any quarter of + the globe a place more fair and fragrant than this hidden vale among the + Alleghany Mountains. The perfume of the flowers of the forest is more + sweet and subtle than the heavy scent of tropical blossoms. No lily-field + in Bermuda could give a fragrance half so magical as the fairy-like odour + of these woodland slopes, soft carpeted with the green of glossy vines + above whose tiny leaves, in delicate profusion, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "The slight Linnaea hangs its twin-born heads." +</pre> + <p> + Nor are there any birds in Africa, or among the Indian Isles, more + exquisite in colour than these miniature warblers, showing their gold and + green, their orange and black, their blue and white, against the dark + background of the rhododendron thicket. + </p> + <p> + But how seldom we put a cup of pleasure to our lips without a dash of + bitters, a touch of faultfinding. My drop of discontent, that day, was the + thought that the northern woodland, at least in June, yielded no fruit to + match its beauty and its fragrance. + </p> + <p> + There is good browsing among the leaves of the wood and the grasses of the + meadow, as every well-instructed angler knows. The bright emerald tips + that break from the hemlock and the balsam like verdant flames have a + pleasant savour to the tongue. The leaves of the sassafras are full of + spice, and the bark of the black-birch twigs holds a fine cordial. + Crinkle-root is spicy, but you must partake of it delicately, or it will + bite your tongue. Spearmint and peppermint never lose their charm for the + palate that still remembers the delights of youth. Wild sorrel has an + agreeable, sour, shivery flavour. Even the tender stalk of a young blade + of grass is a thing that can be chewed by a person of childlike mind with + much contentment. + </p> + <p> + But, after all, these are only relishes. They whet the appetite more than + they appease it. There should be something to eat, in the June woods, as + perfect in its kind, as satisfying to the sense of taste, as the birds and + the flowers are to the senses of sight and hearing and smell. Blueberries + are good, but they are far away in July. Blackberries are luscious when + they are fully ripe, but that will not be until August. Then the fishing + will be over, and the angler's hour of need will be past. The one thing + that is lacking now beside this mountain stream is some fruit more + luscious and dainty than grows in the tropics, to melt upon the lips and + fill the mouth with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + But that is what these cold northern woods will not offer. They are too + reserved, too lofty, too puritanical to make provision for the grosser + wants of humanity. They are not friendly to luxury. + </p> + <p> + Just then, as I shifted my head to find a softer pillow of moss after this + philosophic and immoral reflection, Nature gave me her silent answer. + Three wild strawberries, nodding on their long stems, hung over my face. + It was an invitation to taste and see that they were good. + </p> + <p> + The berries were not the round and rosy ones of the meadow, but the long, + slender, dark crimson ones of the forest. One, two, three; no more on that + vine; but each one as it touched my lips was a drop of nectar and a crumb + of ambrosia, a concentrated essence of all the pungent sweetness of the + wildwood, sapid, penetrating, and delicious. I tasted the odour of a + hundred blossoms and the green shimmering of innumerable leaves and the + sparkle of sifted sunbeams and the breath of highland breezes and the song + of many birds and the murmur of flowing streams,—all in a wild + strawberry. + </p> + <p> + Do you remember, in THE COMPLEAT ANGLER, a remark which Isaak Walton + quotes from a certain "Doctor Boteler" about strawberries? "Doubtless," + said that wise old man, "God could have made a better berry, but doubtless + God never did." + </p> + <p> + Well, the wild strawberry is the one that God made. + </p> + <p> + I think it would have been pleasant to know a man who could sum up his + reflections upon the important question of berries in such a pithy saying + as that which Walton repeats. His tongue must have been in close + communication with his heart. He must have had a fair sense of that + sprightly humour without which piety itself is often insipid. + </p> + <p> + I have often tried to find out more about him, and some day I hope I + shall. But up to the present, all that the books have told me of this + obscure sage is that his name was William Butler, and that he was an + eminent physician, sometimes called "the Aesculapius of his age." He was + born at Ipswich, in 1535, and educated at Clare Hall, Cambridge; in the + neighbourhood of which town he appears to have spent the most of his life, + in high repute as a practitioner of physic. He had the honour of doctoring + King James the First after an accident on the hunting field, and must have + proved himself a pleasant old fellow, for the king looked him up at + Cambridge the next year, and spent an hour in his lodgings. This wise + physician also invented a medicinal beverage called "Doctor Butler's Ale." + I do not quite like the sound of it, but perhaps it was better than its + name. This much is sure, at all events: either it was really a harmless + drink, or else the doctor must have confined its use entirely to his + patients; for he lived to the ripe age of eighty-three years. + </p> + <p> + Between the time when William Butler first needed the services of a + physician, in 1535, and the time when he last prescribed for a patient, in + 1618, there was plenty of trouble in England. Bloody Queen Mary sat on the + throne; and there were all kinds of quarrels about religion and politics; + and Catholics and Protestants were killing one another in the name of God. + After that the red-haired Elizabeth, called the Virgin Queen, wore the + crown, and waged triumphant war and tempestuous love. Then fat James of + Scotland was made king of Great Britain; and Guy Fawkes tried to blow him + up with gunpowder, and failed; and the king tried to blow out all the + pipes in England with his COUNTERBLAST AGAINST TOBACCO; but he failed too. + Somewhere about that time, early in the seventeenth century, a very small + event happened. A new berry was brought over from Virginia,—FRAGRARIA + VIRGINIANA,—and then, amid wars and rumours of wars, Doctor Butler's + happiness was secure. That new berry was so much richer and sweeter and + more generous than the familiar FRAGRARIA VESCA of Europe, that it + attracted the sincere interest of all persons of good taste. It + inaugurated a new era in the history of the strawberry. The long lost + masterpiece of Paradise was restored to its true place in the affections + of man. + </p> + <p> + Is there not a touch of merry contempt for all the vain controversies and + conflicts of humanity in the grateful ejaculation with which the old + doctor greeted that peaceful, comforting gift of Providence? + </p> + <p> + "From this time forward," he seems to say, "the fates cannot beggar me, + for I have eaten strawberries. With every Maytime that visits this + distracted island, the white blossoms with hearts of gold will arrive. In + every June the red drops of pleasant savour will hang among the scalloped + leaves. The children of this world may wrangle and give one another wounds + that even my good ale cannot cure. Nevertheless, the earth as God created + it is a fair dwelling and full of comfort for all who have a quiet mind + and a thankful heart. Doubtless God might have made a better world, but + doubtless this is the world He made for us; and in it He planted the + strawberry." + </p> + <p> + Fine old doctor! Brave philosopher of cheerfulness! The Virginian berry + should have been brought to England sooner, or you should have lived + longer, at least to a hundred years, so that you might have welcomed a + score of strawberry-seasons with gratitude and an epigram. + </p> + <p> + Since that time a great change has passed over the fruit which Doctor + Butler praised so well. That product of creative art which Divine wisdom + did not choose to surpass, human industry has laboured to improve. It has + grown immensely in size and substance. The traveller from America who + steams into Queenstown harbour in early summer is presented (for a + consideration) with a cabbage-leaf full of pale-hued berries, sweet and + juicy, any one of which would outbulk a dozen of those that used to grow + in Virginia when Pocahontas was smitten with the charms of Captain John + Smith. They are superb, those light-tinted Irish strawberries. And there + are wonderful new varieties developed in the gardens of New Jersey and + Rhode Island, which compare with the ancient berries of the woods and + meadows as Leviathan with a minnow. The huge crimson cushions hang among + the plants so thick that they seem like bunches of fruit with a few leaves + attached for ornament. You can satisfy your hunger in such a berry-patch + in ten minutes, while out in the field you must pick for half an hour, and + in the forest thrice as long, before you can fill a small tin cup. + </p> + <p> + Yet, after all, it is questionable whether men have really bettered God's + CHEF D'OEUVRE in the berry line. They have enlarged it and made it more + plentiful and more certain in its harvest. But sweeter, more fragrant, + more poignant in its flavour? No. The wild berry still stands first in its + subtle gusto. + </p> + <p> + Size is not the measure of excellence. Perfection lies in quality, not in + quantity. Concentration enhances pleasure, gives it a point so that it + goes deeper. + </p> + <p> + Is not a ten-inch trout better than a ten-foot sturgeon? I would rather + read a tiny essay by Charles Lamb than a five-hundred page libel on life + by a modern British novelist who shall be nameless. Flavour is the + priceless quality. Style is the thing that counts and is remembered, in + literature, in art, and in berries. + </p> + <p> + No JOCUNDA, nor TRIUMPH, nor VICTORIA, nor any other high-titled fruit + that ever took the first prize at an agricultural fair, is half so + delicate and satisfying as the wild strawberry that dropped into my mouth, + under the hemlock tree, beside the Swiftwater. + </p> + <p> + A touch of surprise is essential to perfect sweetness. + </p> + <p> + To get what you have been wishing for is pleasant; but to get what you + have not been sure of, makes the pleasure tingle. A new door of happiness + is opened when you go out to hunt for something and discover it with your + own eyes. But there is an experience even better than that. When you have + stupidly forgotten (or despondently forgone) to look about you for the + unclaimed treasures and unearned blessings which are scattered along the + by-ways of life, then, sometimes by a special mercy, a small sample of + them is quietly laid before you so that you cannot help seeing it, and it + brings you back to a sense of the joyful possibilities of living. + </p> + <p> + How full of enjoyment is the search after wild things,—wild birds, + wild flowers, wild honey, wild berries! There was a country club on Storm + King Mountain, above the Hudson River, where they used to celebrate a + festival of flowers every spring. Men and women who had conservatories of + their own, full of rare plants and costly orchids, came together to admire + the gathered blossoms of the woodlands and meadows. But the people who had + the best of the entertainment were the boys and girls who wandered through + the thickets and down the brooks, pushed their way into the tangled copses + and crept venturesomely across the swamps, to look for the flowers. Some + of the seekers may have had a few gray hairs; but for that day at least + they were all boys and girls. Nature was as young as ever, and they were + all her children. Hand touched hand without a glove. The hidden blossoms + of friendship unfolded. Laughter and merry shouts and snatches of + half-forgotten song rose to the lips. Gay adventure sparkled in the air. + School was out and nobody listened for the bell. It was just a day to + live, and be natural, and take no thought for the morrow. + </p> + <p> + There is great luck in this affair of looking for flowers. I do not see + how any one who is prejudiced against games of chance can consistently + undertake it. + </p> + <p> + For my own part, I approve of garden flowers because they are so orderly + and so certain; but wild flowers I love, just because there is so much + chance about them. Nature is all in favour of certainty in great laws and + of uncertainty in small events. You cannot appoint the day and the place + for her flower-shows. If you happen to drop in at the right moment she + will give you a free admission. But even then it seems as if the table of + beauty had been spread for the joy of a higher visitor, and in obedience + to secret orders which you have not heard. + </p> + <p> + Have you ever found the fringed gentian? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Just before the snows, + There came a purple creature + That lavished all the hill: + And summer hid her forehead, + And mockery was still. + + The frosts were her condition: + The Tyrian would not come + Until the North evoked her,— + 'Creator, shall I bloom?'" +</pre> + <p> + There are strange freaks of fortune in the finding of wild flowers, and + curious coincidences which make us feel as if some one were playing + friendly tricks on us. I remember reading, one evening in May, a passage + in a good book called THE PROCESSION OF THE FLOWERS, in which Colonel + Higginson describes the singular luck that a friend of his enjoyed, year + after year, in finding the rare blossoms of the double rueanemone. It + seems that this man needed only to take a walk in the suburbs of any town, + and he would come upon a bed of these flowers, without effort or design. I + envied him his good fortune, for I had never discovered even one of them. + But the next morning, as I strolled out to fish the Swiftwater, down below + Billy Lerns's spring-house I found a green bank in the shadow of the wood + all bespangled with tiny, trembling, twofold stars,—double + rueanemones, for luck! It was a favourable omen, and that day I came home + with a creel full of trout. + </p> + <p> + The theory that Adam lived out in the woods for some time before he was + put into the garden of Eden "to dress it and to keep it" has an air of + probability. How else shall we account for the arboreal instincts that + cling to his posterity? + </p> + <p> + There is a wilding strain in our blood that all the civilization in the + world will not eradicate. I never knew a real boy—or, for that + matter, a girl worth knowing—who would not rather climb a tree, any + day, than walk up a golden stairway. + </p> + <p> + It is a touch of this instinct, I suppose, that makes it more delightful + to fish in the most insignificant of free streams than in a carefully + stocked and preserved pond, where the fish are brought up by hand and fed + on minced liver. Such elaborate precautions to ensure good luck extract + all the spice from the sport of angling. Casting the fly in such a pond, + if you hooked a fish, you might expect to hear the keeper say, "Ah, that + is Charles, we will play him and put him back, if you please, sir; for the + master is very fond of him,"—or, "Now you have got hold of Edward; + let us land him and keep him; he is three years old this month, and just + ready to be eaten." It would seem like taking trout out of cold storage. + </p> + <p> + Who could find any pleasure in angling for the tame carp in the fish-pool + of Fontainebleau? They gather at the marble steps, those venerable, + courtly fish, to receive their rations; and there are veterans among them, + in ancient livery, with fringes of green moss on their shoulders, who + could tell you pretty tales of being fed by the white hands of maids of + honour, or even of nibbling their crumbs of bread from the jewelled + fingers of a princess. + </p> + <p> + There is no sport in bringing pets to the table. It may be necessary + sometimes; but the true sportsman would always prefer to leave the + unpleasant task of execution to menial hands, while he goes out into the + wild country to capture his game by his own skill,—if he has good + luck. I would rather run some risk in this enterprise (even as the young + Tobias did, when the voracious pike sprang at him from the waters of the + Tigris, and would have devoured him but for the friendly instruction of + the piscatory Angel, who taught Tobias how to land the monster),—I + would far rather take any number of chances in my sport than have it + domesticated to the point of dulness. + </p> + <p> + The trim plantations of trees which are called "forests" in certain parts + of Europe—scientifically pruned and tended, counted every year by + uniformed foresters, and defended against all possible depredations—are + admirable and useful in their way; but they lack the mystic enchantment of + the fragments of native woodland which linger among the Adirondacks and + the White Mountains, or the vast, shaggy, sylvan wildernesses which hide + the lakes and rivers of Canada. These Laurentian Hills lie in No Man's + Land. Here you do not need to keep to the path, for there is none. You may + make your own trail, whithersoever fancy leads you; and at night you may + pitch your tent under any tree that looks friendly and firm. + </p> + <p> + Here, if anywhere, you shall find Dryads, and Naiads, and Oreads. And if + you chance to see one, by moonlight, combing her long hair beside the + glimmering waterfall, or slipping silently, with gleaming shoulders, + through the grove of silver birches, you may call her by the name that + pleases you best. She is all your own discovery. There is no social + directory in the wilderness. + </p> + <p> + One side of our nature, no doubt, finds its satisfaction in the regular, + the proper, the conventional. But there is another side of our nature, + underneath, that takes delight in the strange, the free, the spontaneous. + We like to discover what we call a law of Nature, and make our + calculations about it, and harness the force which lies behind it for our + own purposes. But we taste a different kind of joy when an event occurs + which nobody has foreseen or counted upon. It seems like an evidence that + there is something in the world which is alive and mysterious and + untrammelled. + </p> + <p> + The weather-prophet tells us of an approaching storm. It comes according + to the programme. We admire the accuracy of the prediction, and + congratulate ourselves that we have such a good meteorological service. + But when, perchance, a bright, crystalline piece of weather arrives + instead of the foretold tempest, do we not feel a secret sense of pleasure + which goes beyond our mere comfort in the sunshine? The whole affair is + not as easy as a sum in simple addition, after all,—at least not + with our present knowledge. It is a good joke on the Weather Bureau. "Aha, + Old Probabilities!" we say, "you don't know it all yet; there are still + some chances to be taken!" + </p> + <p> + Some day, I suppose, all things in the heavens above, and in the earth + beneath, and in the hearts of the men and women who dwell between, will be + investigated and explained. We shall live a perfectly ordered life, with + no accidents, happy or unhappy. Everybody will act according to rule, and + there will be no dotted lines on the map of human existence, no regions + marked "unexplored." Perhaps that golden age of the machine will come, but + you and I will hardly live to see it. And if that seems to you a matter + for tears, you must do your own weeping, for I cannot find it in my heart + to add a single drop of regret. + </p> + <p> + The results of education and social discipline in humanity are fine. It is + a good thing that we can count upon them. But at the same time let us + rejoice in the play of native traits and individual vagaries. Cultivated + manners are admirable, yet there is a sudden touch of inborn grace and + courtesy that goes beyond them all. No array of accomplishments can rival + the charm of an unsuspected gift of nature, brought suddenly to light. I + once heard a peasant girl singing down the Traunthal, and the echo of her + song outlives, in the hearing of my heart, all memories of the grand + opera. + </p> + <p> + The harvest of the gardens and the orchards, the result of prudent + planting and patient cultivation, is full of satisfaction. We anticipate + it in due season, and when it comes we fill our mouths and are grateful. + But pray, kind Providence, let me slip over the fence out of the garden + now and then, to shake a nut-tree that grows untended in the wood. Give me + liberty to put off my black coat for a day, and go a-fishing on a free + stream, and find by chance a wild strawberry. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LOVERS AND LANDSCAPE + </h2> + <p> + "He insisted that the love that was of real value in the world was n't + interesting, and that the love that was interesting was n't always + admirable. Love that happened to a person like the measles or fits, and + was really of no particular credit to itself or its victims, was the sort + that got into the books and was made much of; whereas the kind that was + attained by the endeavour of true souls, and that had wear in it, and that + made things go right instead of tangling them up, was too much like duty + to make satisfactory reading for people of sentiment."—E. S. MARTIN: + My Cousin Anthony. + </p> + <p> + The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. + The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month. + </p> + <p> + The first day of spring is due to arrive, if the calendar does not break + down, about the twenty-first of March, when the earth turns the corner of + Sun Alley and starts for Summer Street. But the first spring day is not on + the time-table at all. It comes when it is ready, and in the latitude of + New York this is usually not till after All Fools' Day. + </p> + <p> + About this time,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "When chinks in April's windy dome + Let through a day of June, + And foot and thought incline to roam, + And every sound's a tune,"— +</pre> + <p> + it is the habit of the angler who lives in town to prepare for the labours + of the approaching season by longer walks or bicycle-rides in the parks, + or along the riverside, or in the somewhat demoralized Edens of the + suburbs. In the course of these vernal peregrinations and circumrotations, + I observe that lovers of various kinds begin to occupy a notable place in + the landscape. + </p> + <p> + The burnished dove puts a livelier iris around his neck, and practises + fantastic bows and amourous quicksteps along the verandah of the + pigeon-house and on every convenient roof. The young male of the human + species, less gifted in the matter of rainbows, does his best with a gay + cravat, and turns the thoughts which circulate above it towards the + securing or propitiating of a best girl. + </p> + <p> + The objects of these more or less brilliant attentions, doves and girls, + show a becoming reciprocity, and act in a way which leads us to infer (so + far as inferences hold good in the mysterious region of female conduct) + that they are not seriously displeased. To a rightly tempered mind, + pleasure is a pleasant sight. And the philosophic observer who could look + upon this spring spectacle of the lovers with any but friendly feelings + would be indeed what the great Dr. Samuel Johnson called "a person not to + be envied." + </p> + <p> + Far be it from me to fall into such a desiccated and supercilious mood. My + small olive-branch of fancy will be withered, in truth, and ready to drop + budless from the tree, when I cease to feel a mild delight in the billings + and cooings of the little birds that separate from the flocks to fly + together in pairs, or in the uninstructive but mutually satisfactory + converse which Strephon holds with Chloe while they dally along the + primrose path. + </p> + <p> + I am glad that even the stony and tumultuous city affords some + opportunities for these amiable observations. In the month of April there + is hardly a clump of shrubbery in the Central Park which will not serve as + a trysting-place for yellow warblers and catbirds just home from their + southern tours. At the same time, you shall see many a bench, designed for + the accommodation of six persons, occupied at the sunset hour by only two, + and apparently so much too small for them that they cannot avoid a little + crowding. + </p> + <p> + These are infallible signs. Taken in conjunction with the eruption of tops + and marbles among the small boys, and the purchase of fishing-tackle and + golf-clubs by the old boys, they certify us that the vernal equinox has + arrived, not only in the celestial regions, but also in the heart of man. + </p> + <p> + I have been reflecting of late upon the relation of lovers to the + landscape, and questioning whether art has given it quite the same place + as that which belongs to it in nature. In fiction, for example, and in the + drama, and in music, I have some vague misgivings that romantic love has + come to hold a more prominent and a more permanent position than it fills + in real life. + </p> + <p> + This is dangerous ground to venture upon, even in the most modest and + deprecatory way. The man who expresses an opinion, or even a doubt, on + this subject, contrary to the ruling traditions, will have a swarm of + angry critics buzzing about him. He will be called a heretic, a heathen, a + cold-blooded freak of nature. As for the woman who hesitates to subscribe + all the thirty-nine articles of romantic love, if such a one dares to put + her reluctance into words, she is certain to be accused either of + unwomanly ambition or of feminine disappointment. + </p> + <p> + Let us make haste, then, to get back for safety to the ornithological + aspect of the subject. Here there can be no penalties for heresy. And here + I make bold to avow my conviction that the pairing season is not the only + point of interest in the life of the birds; nor is the instinct by which + they mate altogether and beyond comparison the noblest passion that stirs + their feathered breasts. + </p> + <p> + 'T is true, the time of mating is their prettiest season; but it is very + short. How little we should know of the drama of their airy life if we had + eyes only for this brief scene! Their finest qualities come out in the + patient cares that protect the young in the nest, in the varied struggles + for existence through the changing year, and in the incredible heroisms of + the annual migrations. Herein is a parable. + </p> + <p> + It may be observed further, without fear of rebuke, that the behaviour of + the different kinds of birds during the prevalence of romantic love is not + always equally above reproach. The courtship of English sparrows—blustering, + noisy, vulgar—is a sight to offend the taste of every gentle + on-looker. Some birds reiterate and vociferate their love-songs in a + fashion that displays their inconsiderateness as well as their ignorance + of music. This trait is most marked in domestic fowls. There was a + guinea-cock, once, that chose to do his wooing close under the window of a + farm-house where I was lodged. He had no regard for my hours of sleep or + meditation. His amatory click-clack prevented the morning and wrecked the + tranquillity of the evening. It was odious, brutal,—worse, it was + absolutely thoughtless. Herein is another parable. + </p> + <p> + Let us admit cheerfully that lovers have a place in the landscape and lend + a charm to it. This does not mean that they are to take up all the room + there is. Suppose, for example, that a pair of them, on Goat Island, put + themselves in such a position as to completely block out your view of + Niagara. You cannot regard them with gratitude. They even become a little + tedious. Or suppose that you are visiting at a country-house, and you find + that you must not enjoy the moonlight on the verandah because Augustus and + Amanda are murmuring in one corner, and that you must not go into the + garden because Louis and Lizzie are there, and that you cannot have a sail + on the lake because Richard and Rebecca have taken the boat. + </p> + <p> + Of course, unless you happen to be a selfish old curmudgeon, you rejoice, + by sympathy, in the happiness of these estimable young people. But you + fail to see why it should cover so much ground. + </p> + <p> + Why should they not pool their interests, and all go out in the boat, or + all walk in the garden, or all sit on the verandah? Then there would be + room for somebody else about the place. + </p> + <p> + In old times you could rely upon lovers for retirement. But nowadays their + role seems to be a bold ostentation of their condition. They rely upon + other people to do the timid, shrinking part. Society, in America, is + arranged principally for their convenience; and whatever portion of the + landscape strikes their fancy, they preempt and occupy. All this goes upon + the presumption that romantic love is really the only important interest + in life. + </p> + <p> + This train of thought was illuminated, the other night, by an incident + which befell me at a party. It was an assembly of men, drawn together by + their common devotion to the sport of canoeing. There were only three or + four of the gentler sex present (as honorary members), and only one of + whom it could be suspected that she was at that time a victim or an object + of the tender passion. In the course of the evening, by way of diversion + to our disputations on keels and centreboards, canvas and birch-bark, + cedar-wood and bass-wood, paddles and steering-gear, a fine young Apollo, + with a big, manly voice, sang us a few songs. But he did not chant the + joys of weathering a sudden squall, or running a rapid feather-white with + foam, or floating down a long, quiet, elm-bowered river. Not all. His + songs were full of sighs and yearnings, languid lips and sheep's-eyes. His + powerful voice informed us that crowns of thorns seemed like garlands of + roses, and kisses were as sweet as samples of heaven, and various other + curious sensations were experienced; and at the end of every stanza the + reason was stated, in tones of thunder— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Because I love you, dear." +</pre> + <p> + Even if true, it seemed inappropriate. How foolish the average audience in + a drawing-room looks while it is listening to passionate love-ditties! And + yet I suppose the singer chose these songs, not from any malice + aforethought, but simply because songs of this kind are so abundant that + it is next to impossible to find anything else in the shops. + </p> + <p> + In regard to novels, the situation is almost as discouraging. Ten + love-stories are printed to one of any other kind. We have a standing + invitation to consider the tribulations and difficulties of some young man + or young woman in finding a mate. It must be admitted that the subject has + its capabilities of interest. Nature has her uses for the lover, and she + gives him an excellent part to play in the drama of life. But is this + tantamount to saying that his interest is perennial and all-absorbing, and + that his role on the stage is the only one that is significant and + noteworthy? + </p> + <p> + Life is much too large to be expressed in the terms of a single passion. + Friendship, patriotism, parental tenderness, filial devotion, the ardour + of adventure, the thirst for knowledge, the ecstasy of religion,—these + all have their dwelling in the heart of man. They mould character. They + control conduct. They are stars of destiny shining in the inner firmament. + And if art would truly hold the mirror up to nature, it must reflect these + greater and lesser lights that rule the day and the night. + </p> + <p> + How many of the plays that divert and misinform the modern theatre-goer + turn on the pivot of a love-affair, not always pure, but generally simple! + And how many of those that are imported from France proceed upon the + theory that the Seventh is the only Commandment, and that the principal + attraction of life lies in the opportunity of breaking it! The + matinee-girl is not likely to have a very luminous or truthful idea of + existence floating around in her pretty little head. + </p> + <p> + But, after all, the great plays, those that take the deepest hold upon the + heart, like HAMLET and KING LEAR, MACBETH and OTHELLO, are not love-plays. + And the most charming comedies, like THE WINTER'S TALE, and THE RIVALS, + and RIP VAN WINKLE, are chiefly memorable for other things than + love-scenes. + </p> + <p> + Even in novels, love shows at its best when it does not absorb the whole + plot. LORNA DOONE is a lovers' story, but there is a blessed minimum of + spooning in it, and always enough of working and fighting to keep the air + clear and fresh. THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN, and HYPATIA, and ROMOLA, and THE + CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH, and JOHN INGLESANT, and THE THREE MUSKETEERS, and + NOTRE DAME, and PEACE AND WAR, and QUO VADIS,—these are great novels + because they are much more than tales of romantic love. As for HENRY + ESMOND, (which seems to me the best of all,) certainly "love at first + sight" does not play the finest role in that book. + </p> + <p> + There are good stories of our own day—pathetic, humourous, + entertaining, powerful—in which the element of romantic love is + altogether subordinate, or even imperceptible. THE RISE OF SILAS LAPHAM + does not owe its deep interest to the engagement of the very charming + young people who enliven it. MADAME DELPHINE and OLE 'STRACTED are perfect + stories of their kind. I would not barter THE JUNGLE BOOKS for a hundred + of THE BRUSHWOOD BOY. + </p> + <p> + The truth is that love, considered merely as the preference of one person + for another of the opposite sex, is not "the greatest thing in the world." + It becomes great only when it leads on, as it often does, to heroism and + self-sacrifice and fidelity. Its chief value for art (the interpreter) + lies not in itself, but in its quickening relation to the other elements + of life. It must be seen and shown in its due proportion, and in harmony + with the broader landscape. + </p> + <p> + Do you believe that in all the world there is only one woman specially + created for each man, and that the order of the universe will be + hopelessly askew unless these two needles find each other in the haystack? + You believe it for yourself, perhaps; but do you believe it for Tom + Johnson? You remember what a terrific disturbance he made in the summer of + 189-, at Bar Harbor, about Ellinor Brown, and how he ran away with her in + September. You have also seen them together (occasionally) at Lenox and + Newport, since their marriage. Are you honestly of the opinion that if Tom + had not married Ellinor, these two young lives would have been a total + wreck? + </p> + <p> + Adam Smith, in his book on THE MORAL SENTIMENTS, goes so far as to say + that "love is not interesting to the observer because it is AN AFFECTION + OF THE IMAGINATION, into which it is difficult for a third party to + enter." Something of the same kind occurred to me in regard to Tom and + Ellinor. Yet I would not have presumed to suggest this thought to either + of them. Nor would I have quoted in their hearing the melancholy and + frigid prediction of Ralph Waldo Emerson, to the effect that they would + some day discover "that all which at first drew them together—those + once sacred features, that magical play of charm—was deciduous." + </p> + <p> + DECIDUOUS, indeed? Cold, unpleasant, botanical word! Rather would I + prognosticate for the lovers something perennial, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "A sober certainty of waking bliss," +</pre> + <p> + to survive the evanescence of love's young dream. Ellinor should turn out + to be a woman like the Lady Elizabeth Hastings, of whom Richard Steele + wrote that "to love her was a liberal education." Tom should prove that he + had in him the lasting stuff of a true man and a hero. Then it would make + little difference whether their conjunction had been eternally prescribed + in the book of fate or not. It would be evidently a fit match, made on + earth and illustrative of heaven. + </p> + <p> + But even in the making of such a match as this, the various stages of + attraction, infatuation, and appropriation should not be displayed too + prominently before the world, nor treated as events of overwhelming + importance and enduring moment. I would not counsel Tom and Ellinor, in + the midsummer of their engagement, to have their photographs taken + together in affectionate attitudes. + </p> + <p> + The pictures of an imaginary kind which deal with the subject of romantic + love are, almost without exception, fatuous and futile. The inanely + amatory, with their languishing eyes, weary us. The endlessly osculatory, + with their protracted salutations, are sickening. Even when an air of + sentimental propriety is thrown about them by some such title as "Wedded" + or "The Honeymoon," they fatigue us. For the most part, they remind me of + the remark which the Commodore made upon a certain painting of Jupiter and + lo which hangs in the writing-room of the Contrary Club. + </p> + <p> + "Sir," said that gently piercing critic, "that picture is equally + unsatisfactory to the artist, to the moralist, and to the voluptuary." + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, having made a clean breast of my misgivings and reservations + on the subject of lovers and landscape, I will now confess that the whole + of my doubts do not weigh much against my unreasoned faith in romantic + love. At heart I am no infidel, but a most obstinate believer and devotee. + My seasons of skepticism are transient. They are connected with a torpid + liver and aggravated by confinement to a sedentary life and enforced + abstinence from angling. Out-of-doors, I return to a saner and happier + frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + As my wheel rolls along the Riverside Drive in the golden glow of the + sunset, I rejoice that the episode of Charles Henry and Matilda Jane has + not been omitted from the view. This vast and populous city, with all its + passing show of life, would be little better than a waste, howling + wilderness if we could not catch a glimpse, now and then, of young people + falling in love in the good old-fashioned way. Even on a trout-stream, I + have seen nothing prettier than the sight upon which I once came suddenly + as I was fishing down the Neversink. + </p> + <p> + A boy was kneeling beside the brook, and a girl was giving him a drink of + water out of her rosy hands. They stared with wonder and compassion at the + wet and solitary angler, wading down the stream, as if he were some kind + of a mild lunatic. But as I glanced discreetly at their small tableau, I + was not unconscious of the new joy that came into the landscape with the + presence of + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "A lover and his lass." +</pre> + <p> + I knew how sweet the water tasted from that kind of a cup. I also have + lived in Arcadia, and have not forgotten the way back. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A FATAL SUCCESS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "What surprises me in her behaviour," said he, "is its + thoroughness. Woman seldom does things by halves, but often + by doubles." + + —SOLOMON SINGLEWITZ: The Life of Adam. +</pre> + <p> + Beekman De Peyster was probably the most passionate and triumphant + fisherman in the Petrine Club. He angled with the same dash and confidence + that he threw into his operations in the stock-market. He was sure to be + the first man to get his flies on the water at the opening of the season. + And when we came together for our fall meeting, to compare notes of our + wanderings on various streams and make up the fish-stories for the year, + Beekman was almost always "high hook." We expected, as a matter of course, + to hear that he had taken the most and the largest fish. + </p> + <p> + It was so with everything that he undertook. He was a masterful man. If + there was an unusually large trout in a river, Beekman knew about it + before any one else, and got there first, and came home with the fish. It + did not make him unduly proud, because there was nothing uncommon about + it. It was his habit to succeed, and all the rest of us were hardened to + it. + </p> + <p> + When he married Cornelia Cochrane, we were consoled for our partial loss + by the apparent fitness and brilliancy of the match. If Beekman was a + masterful man, Cornelia was certainly what you might call a mistressful + woman. She had been the head of her house since she was eighteen years + old. She carried her good looks like the family plate; and when she came + into the breakfast-room and said good-morning, it was with an air as if + she presented every one with a check for a thousand dollars. Her tastes + were accepted as judgments, and her preferences had the force of laws. + Wherever she wanted to go in the summer-time, there the finger of + household destiny pointed. At Newport, at Bar Harbour, at Lenox, at + Southampton, she made a record. When she was joined in holy wedlock to + Beekman De Peyster, her father and mother heaved a sigh of satisfaction, + and settled down for a quiet vacation in Cherry Valley. + </p> + <p> + It was in the second summer after the wedding that Beekman admitted to a + few of his ancient Petrine cronies, in moments of confidence + (unjustifiable, but natural), that his wife had one fault. + </p> + <p> + "It is not exactly a fault," he said, "not a positive fault, you know. It + is just a kind of a defect, due to her education, of course. In everything + else she's magnificent. But she does n't care for fishing. She says it's + stupid,—can't see why any one should like the woods,—calls + camping out the lunatic's diversion. It's rather awkward for a man with my + habits to have his wife take such a view. But it can be changed by + training. I intend to educate her and convert her. I shall make an angler + of her yet." + </p> + <p> + And so he did. + </p> + <p> + The new education was begun in the Adirondacks, and the first lesson was + given at Paul Smith's. It was a complete failure. + </p> + <p> + Beekman persuaded her to come out with him for a day on Meacham River, and + promised to convince her of the charm of angling. She wore a new gown, + fawn-colour and violet, with a picture-hat, very taking. But the Meacham + River trout was shy that day; not even Beekman could induce him to rise to + the fly. What the trout lacked in confidence the mosquitoes more than made + up. Mrs. De Peyster came home much sunburned, and expressed a highly + unfavourable opinion of fishing as an amusement and of Meacham River as a + resort. + </p> + <p> + "The nice people don't come to the Adirondacks to fish," said she; "they + come to talk about the fishing twenty years ago. Besides, what do you want + to catch that trout for? If you do, the other men will say you bought it, + and the hotel will have to put in a new one for the rest of the season." + </p> + <p> + The following year Beekman tried Moosehead Lake. Here he found an + atmosphere more favourable to his plan of education. There were a good + many people who really fished, and short expeditions in the woods were + quite fashionable. Cornelia had a camping-costume of the most approved + style made by Dewlap on Fifth Avenue,—pearl-gray with linings of + rose-silk,—and consented to go with her husband on a trip up Moose + River. They pitched their tent the first evening at the mouth of Misery + Stream, and a storm came on. The rain sifted through the canvas in a fine + spray, and Mrs. De Peyster sat up all night in a waterproof cloak, holding + an umbrella. The next day they were back at the hotel in time for lunch. + </p> + <p> + "It was horrid," she told her most intimate friend, "perfectly horrid. The + idea of sleeping in a shower-bath, and eating your breakfast from a tin + plate, just for sake of catching a few silly fish! Why not send your + guides out to get them for you?" + </p> + <p> + But, in spite of this profession of obstinate heresy, Beekman observed + with secret joy that there were signs, before the end of the season, that + Cornelia was drifting a little, a very little but still perceptibly, in + the direction of a change of heart. She began to take an interest, as the + big trout came along in September, in the reports of the catches made by + the different anglers. She would saunter out with the other people to the + corner of the porch to see the fish weighed and spread out on the grass. + Several times she went with Beekman in the canoe to Hardscrabble Point, + and showed distinct evidences of pleasure when he caught large trout. The + last day of the season, when he returned from a successful expedition to + Roach River and Lily Bay, she inquired with some particularity about the + results of his sport; and in the evening, as the company sat before the + great open fire in the hall of the hotel, she was heard to use this + information with considerable skill in putting down Mrs. Minot Peabody of + Boston, who was recounting the details of her husband's catch at Spencer + Pond. Cornelia was not a person to be contented with the back seat, even + in fish-stories. + </p> + <p> + When Beekman observed these indications he was much encouraged, and + resolved to push his educational experiment briskly forward to his + customary goal of success. + </p> + <p> + "Some things can be done, as well as others," he said in his masterful + way, as three of us were walking home together after the autumnal dinner + of the Petrine Club, which he always attended as a graduate member. "A + real fisherman never gives up. I told you I'd make an angler out of my + wife; and so I will. It has been rather difficult. She is 'dour' in + rising. But she's beginning to take notice of the fly now. Give me another + season, and I'll have her landed." + </p> + <p> + Good old Beekman! Little did he think—But I must not interrupt the + story with moral reflections. + </p> + <p> + The preparations that he made for his final effort at conversion were + thorough and prudent. He had a private interview with Dewlap in regard to + the construction of a practical fishing-costume for a lady, which resulted + in something more reasonable and workmanlike than had ever been turned out + by that famous artist. He ordered from Hook and Catchett a lady's + angling-outfit of the most enticing description,—a split-bamboo rod, + light as a girl's wish, and strong as a matron's will; an oxidized silver + reel, with a monogram on one side, and a sapphire set in the handle for + good luck; a book of flies, of all sizes and colours, with the correct + names inscribed in gilt letters on each page. He surrounded his favourite + sport with an aureole of elegance and beauty. And then he took Cornelia in + September to the Upper Dam at Rangeley. + </p> + <p> + She went reluctant. She arrived disgusted. She stayed incredulous. She + returned—Wait a bit, and you shall hear how she returned. + </p> + <p> + The Upper Dam at Rangeley is the place, of all others in the world, where + the lunacy of angling may be seen in its incurable stage. There is a cosy + little inn, called a camp, at the foot of a big lake. In front of the inn + is a huge dam of gray stone, over which the river plunges into a great + oval pool, where the trout assemble in the early fall to perpetuate their + race. From the tenth of September to the thirtieth, there is not an hour + of the day or night when there are no boats floating on that pool, and no + anglers trailing the fly across its waters. Before the late fishermen are + ready to come in at midnight, the early fishermen may be seen creeping + down to the shore with lanterns in order to begin before cock-crow. The + number of fish taken is not large,—perhaps five or six for the whole + company on an average day,—but the size is sometimes enormous,—nothing + under three pounds is counted,—and they pervade thought and + conversation at the Upper Dam to the exclusion of every other subject. + There is no driving, no dancing, no golf, no tennis. There is nothing to + do but fish or die. + </p> + <p> + At first, Cornelia thought she would choose the latter alternative. But a + remark of that skilful and morose old angler, McTurk, which she overheard + on the verandah after supper, changed her mind. + </p> + <p> + "Women have no sporting instinct," said he. "They only fish because they + see men doing it. They are imitative animals." + </p> + <p> + That same night she told Beekman, in the subdued tone which the + architectural construction of the house imposes upon all confidential + communications in the bedrooms, but with resolution in every accent, that + she proposed to go fishing with him on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + "But not on that pool, right in front of the house, you understand. There + must be some other place, out on the lake, where we can fish for three or + four days, until I get the trick of this wobbly rod. Then I'll show that + old bear, McTurk, what kind of an animal woman is." + </p> + <p> + Beekman was simply delighted. Five days of diligent practice at the mouth + of Mill Brook brought his pupil to the point where he pronounced her safe. + </p> + <p> + "Of course," he said patronizingly, "you have 'nt learned all about it + yet. That will take years. But you can get your fly out thirty feet, and + you can keep the tip of your rod up. If you do that, the trout will hook + himself, in rapid water, eight times out of ten. For playing him, if you + follow my directions, you 'll be all right. We will try the pool tonight, + and hope for a medium-sized fish." + </p> + <p> + Cornelia said nothing, but smiled and nodded. She had her own thoughts. + </p> + <p> + At about nine o'clock Saturday night, they anchored their boat on the edge + of the shoal where the big eddy swings around, put out the lantern and + began to fish. Beekman sat in the bow of the boat, with his rod over the + left side; Cornelia in the stern, with her rod over the right side. The + night was cloudy and very black. Each of them had put on the largest + possible fly, one a "Bee-Pond" and the other a "Dragon;" but even these + were invisible. They measured out the right length of line, and let the + flies drift back until they hung over the shoal, in the curly water where + the two currents meet. + </p> + <p> + There were three other boats to the left of them. McTurk was their only + neighbour in the darkness on the right. Once they heard him swearing + softly to himself, and knew that he had hooked and lost a fish. + </p> + <p> + Away down at the tail of the pool, dimly visible through the gloom, the + furtive fisherman, Parsons, had anchored his boat. No noise ever came from + that craft. If he wished to change his position, he did not pull up the + anchor and let it down again with a bump. He simply lengthened or + shortened his anchor rope. There was no click of the reel when he played a + fish. He drew in and paid out the line through the rings by hand, without + a sound. What he thought when a fish got away, no one knew, for he never + said it. He concealed his angling as if it had been a conspiracy. Twice + that night they heard a faint splash in the water near his boat, and twice + they saw him put his arm over the side in the darkness and bring it back + again very quietly. + </p> + <p> + "That's the second fish for Parsons," whispered Beekman, "what a secretive + old Fortunatus he is! He knows more about fishing than any man on the + pool, and talks less." + </p> + <p> + Cornelia did not answer. Her thoughts were all on the tip of her own rod. + About eleven o'clock a fine, drizzling rain set in. The fishing was very + slack. All the other boats gave it up in despair; but Cornelia said she + wanted to stay out a little longer, they might as well finish up the week. + </p> + <p> + At precisely fifty minutes past eleven, Beekman reeled up his line, and + remarked with firmness that the holy Sabbath day was almost at hand and + they ought to go in. + </p> + <p> + "Not till I 've landed this trout," said Cornelia. + </p> + <p> + "What? A trout! Have you got one?" + </p> + <p> + "Certainly; I 've had him on for at least fifteen minutes. I 'm playing + him Mr. Parsons' way. You might as well light the lantern and get the net + ready; he's coming in towards the boat now." + </p> + <p> + Beekman broke three matches before he made the lantern burn; and when he + held it up over the gunwale, there was the trout sure enough, gleaming + ghostly pale in the dark water, close to the boat, and quite tired out. He + slipped the net over the fish and drew it in,—a monster. + </p> + <p> + "I 'll carry that trout, if you please," said Cornelia, as they stepped + out of the boat; and she walked into the camp, on the last stroke of + midnight, with the fish in her hand, and quietly asked for the steelyard. + </p> + <p> + Eight pounds and fourteen ounces,—that was the weight. Everybody was + amazed. It was the "best fish" of the year. Cornelia showed no sign of + exultation, until just as John was carrying the trout to the ice-house. + Then she flashed out:—"Quite a fair imitation, Mr. McTurk,—is + n't it?" + </p> + <p> + Now McTurk's best record for the last fifteen years was seven pounds and + twelve ounces. + </p> + <p> + So far as McTurk is concerned, this is the end of the story. But not for + the De Peysters. I wish it were. Beekman went to sleep that night with a + contented spirit. He felt that his experiment in education had been a + success. He had made his wife an angler. + </p> + <p> + He had indeed, and to an extent which he little suspected. That Upper Dam + trout was to her like the first taste of blood to the tiger. It seemed to + change, at once, not so much her character as the direction of her vital + energy. She yielded to the lunacy of angling, not by slow degrees, (as + first a transient delusion, then a fixed idea, then a chronic infirmity, + finally a mild insanity,) but by a sudden plunge into the most violent + mania. So far from being ready to die at Upper Dam, her desire now was to + live there—and to live solely for the sake of fishing—as long + as the season was open. + </p> + <p> + There were two hundred and forty hours left to midnight on the thirtieth + of September. At least two hundred of these she spent on the pool; and + when Beekman was too exhausted to manage the boat and the net and the + lantern for her, she engaged a trustworthy guide to take Beekman's place + while he slept. At the end of the last day her score was twenty-three, + with an average of five pounds and a quarter. His score was nine, with an + average of four pounds. He had succeeded far beyond his wildest hopes. + </p> + <p> + The next year his success became even more astonishing. They went to the + Titan Club in Canada. The ugliest and most inaccessible sheet of water in + that territory is Lake Pharaoh. But it is famous for the extraordinary + fishing at a certain spot near the outlet, where there is just room enough + for one canoe. They camped on Lake Pharaoh for six weeks, by Mrs. De + Peyster's command; and her canoe was always the first to reach the + fishing-ground in the morning, and the last to leave it in the evening. + </p> + <p> + Some one asked him, when he returned to the city, whether he had good + luck. + </p> + <p> + "Quite fair," he tossed off in a careless way; "we took over three hundred + pounds." + </p> + <p> + "To your own rod?" asked the inquirer, in admiration. + </p> + <p> + "No-o-o," said Beekman, "there were two of us." + </p> + <p> + There were two of them, also, the following year, when they joined the + Natasheebo Salmon Club and fished that celebrated river in Labrador. The + custom of drawing lots every night for the water that each member was to + angle over the next day, seemed to be especially designed to fit the + situation. Mrs. De Peyster could fish her own pool and her husband's too. + The result of that year's fishing was something phenomenal. She had a + score that made a paragraph in the newspapers and called out editorial + comment. One editor was so inadequate to the situation as to entitle the + article in which he described her triumph "The Equivalence of Woman." It + was well-meant, but she was not at all pleased with it. + </p> + <p> + She was now not merely an angler, but a "record" angler of the most + virulent type. Wherever they went, she wanted, and she got, the pick of + the water. She seemed to be equally at home on all kinds of streams, large + and small. She would pursue the little mountain-brook trout in the early + spring, and the Labrador salmon in July, and the huge speckled trout of + the northern lakes in September, with the same avidity and resolution. All + that she cared for was to get the best and the most of the fishing at each + place where she angled. This she always did. + </p> + <p> + And Beekman,—well, for him there were no more long separations from + the partner of his life while he went off to fish some favourite stream. + There were no more home-comings after a good day's sport to find her clad + in cool and dainty raiment on the verandah, ready to welcome him with + friendly badinage. There was not even any casting of the fly around + Hardscrabble Point while she sat in the canoe reading a novel, looking up + with mild and pleasant interest when he caught a larger fish than usual, + as an older and wiser person looks at a child playing some innocent game. + Those days of a divided interest between man and wife were gone. She was + now fully converted, and more. Beekman and Cornelia were one; and she was + the one. + </p> + <p> + The last time I saw the De Peysters he was following her along the + Beaverkill, carrying a landing-net and a basket, but no rod. She paused + for a moment to exchange greetings, and then strode on down the stream. He + lingered for a few minutes longer to light a pipe. + </p> + <p> + "Well, old man," I said, "you certainly have succeeded in making an angler + of Mrs. De Peyster." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, indeed," he answered,—"have n't I?" Then he continued, after a + few thoughtful puffs of smoke, "Do you know, I 'm not quite so sure as I + used to be that fishing is the best of all sports. I sometimes think of + giving it up and going in for croquet." + </p> + <p> + FISHING IN BOOKS + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "SIMPSON.—Have you ever seen any American books on angling, + Fisher?" + + "FISHER.—No, I do not think there are any published. + Brother Jonathan is not yet sufficiently civilized to + produce anything original on the gentle art. There is good + trout-fishing in America, and the streams, which are all + free, are much less fished than in our Island, 'from the + small number of gentlemen,' as an American writer says, 'who + are at leisure to give their time to it.'" + + —WILLIAM ANDREW CHATTO: The Angler's Souvenir (London, + 1835). +</pre> + <p> + That wise man and accomplished scholar, Sir Henry Wotton, the friend of + Izaak Walton and ambassador of King James I to the republic of Venice, was + accustomed to say that "he would rather live five May months than forty + Decembers." The reason for this preference was no secret to those who knew + him. It had nothing to do with British or Venetian politics. It was simply + because December, with all its domestic joys, is practically a dead month + in the angler's calendar. + </p> + <p> + His occupation is gone. The better sort of fish are out of season. The + trout are lean and haggard: it is no trick to catch them and no treat to + eat them. The salmon, all except the silly kelts, have run out to sea, and + the place of their habitation no man knoweth. There is nothing for the + angler to do but wait for the return of spring, and meanwhile encourage + and sustain his patience with such small consolations in kind as a + friendly Providence may put within his reach. + </p> + <p> + Some solace may be found, on a day of crisp, wintry weather, in the + childish diversion of catching pickerel through the ice. This method of + taking fish is practised on a large scale and with elaborate machinery by + men who supply the market. I speak not of their commercial enterprise and + its gross equipage, but of ice-fishing in its more sportive and desultory + form, as it is pursued by country boys and the incorrigible village idler. + </p> + <p> + You choose for this pastime a pond where the ice is not too thick, lest + the labour of cutting through should be discouraging; nor too thin, lest + the chance of breaking in should be embarrassing. You then chop out, with + almost any kind of a hatchet or pick, a number of holes in the ice, making + each one six or eight inches in diameter, and placing them about five or + six feet apart. If you happen to know the course of a current flowing + through the pond, or the location of a shoal frequented by minnows, you + will do well to keep near it. Over each hole you set a small contrivance + called a "tilt-up." It consists of two sticks fastened in the middle, at + right angles to each other. The stronger of the two is laid across the + opening in the ice. The other is thus balanced above the aperture, with a + baited hook and line attached to one end, while the other end is adorned + with a little flag. For choice, I would have the flags red. They look + gayer, and I imagine they are more lucky. + </p> + <p> + When you have thus baited and set your tilt-ups,—twenty or thirty of + them,—you may put on your skates and amuse yourself by gliding to + and fro on the smooth surface of the ice, cutting figures of eight and + grapevines and diamond twists, while you wait for the pickerel to begin + their part of the performance. They will let you know when they are ready. + </p> + <p> + A fish, swimming around in the dim depths under the ice, sees one of your + baits, fancies it, and takes it in. The moment he tries to run away with + it he tilts the little red flag into the air and waves it backward and + forward. "Be quick!" he signals all unconsciously; "here I am; come and + pull me up!" + </p> + <p> + When two or three flags are fluttering at the same moment, far apart on + the pond, you must skate with speed and haul in your lines promptly. + </p> + <p> + How hard it is, sometimes, to decide which one you will take first! That + flag in the middle of the pond has been waving for at least a minute; but + the other, in the corner of the bay, is tilting up and down more + violently: it must be a larger fish. Great Dagon! There's another red + signal flying, away over by the point! You hesitate, you make a few + strokes in one direction, then you whirl around and dart the other way. + Meantime one of the tilt-ups, constructed with too short a cross-stick, + has been pulled to one side, and disappears in the hole. One pickerel in + the pond carries a flag. Another tilt-up ceases to move and falls flat + upon the ice. The bait has been stolen. You dash desperately toward the + third flag and pull in the only fish that is left,—probably the + smallest of them all! + </p> + <p> + A surplus of opportunities does not insure the best luck. + </p> + <p> + A room with seven doors—like the famous apartment in Washington's + headquarters at Newburgh—is an invitation to bewilderment. I would + rather see one fair opening in life than be confused by three dazzling + chances. + </p> + <p> + There was a good story about fishing through the ice which formed part of + the stock-in-conversation of that ingenious woodsman, Martin Moody, + Esquire, of Big Tupper Lake. "'T was a blame cold day," he said, "and the + lines friz up stiffer 'n a fence-wire, jus' as fast as I pulled 'em in, + and my fingers got so dum' frosted I could n't bait the hooks. But the + fish was thicker and hungrier 'n flies in June. So I jus' took a piece of + bait and held it over one o' the holes. Every time a fish jumped up to git + it, I 'd kick him out on the ice. I tell ye, sir, I kicked out more 'n + four hundred pounds of pick'rel that morning. Yaas, 't was a big lot, I + 'low, but then 't was a cold day! I jus' stacked 'em up solid, like + cordwood." + </p> + <p> + Let us now leave this frigid subject! Iced fishing is but a chilling and + unsatisfactory imitation of real sport. The angler will soon turn from it + with satiety, and seek a better consolation for the winter of his + discontent in the entertainment of fishing in books. + </p> + <p> + Angling is the only sport that boasts the honour of having given a classic + to literature. + </p> + <p> + Izaak Walton's success with THE COMPLEAT ANGLER was a fine illustration of + fisherman's luck. He set out, with some aid from an adept in fly-fishing + and cookery, named Thomas Barker, to produce a little "discourse of fish + and fishing" which should serve as a useful manual for quiet persons + inclined to follow the contemplative man's recreation. He came home with a + book which has made his name beloved by ten generations of gentle readers, + and given him a secure place in the Pantheon of letters,—not a + haughty eminence, but a modest niche, all his own, and ever adorned with + grateful offerings of fresh flowers. + </p> + <p> + This was great luck. But it was well-deserved, and therefore it has not + been grudged or envied. + </p> + <p> + Walton was a man so peaceful and contented, so friendly in his + disposition, and so innocent in all his goings, that only three other + writers, so far as I know, have ever spoken ill of him. + </p> + <p> + One was that sour-complexioned Cromwellian trooper, Richard Franck, who + wrote in 1658 an envious book entitled NORTHERN MEMOIRS, CALCULATED FOR + THE MERIDIAN OF SCOTLAND, ETC., TO WHICH IS ADDED THE CONTEMPLATIVE AND + PRACTICAL ANGLER. In this book the furious Franck first pays Walton the + flattery of imitation, and then further adorns him with abuse, calling THE + COMPLEAT ANGLER "an indigested octavo, stuffed with morals from Dubravius + and others," and more than hinting that the father of anglers knew little + or nothing of "his uncultivated art." Walton was a Churchman and a + Loyalist, you see, while Franck was a Commonwealth man and an Independent. + </p> + <p> + The second detractor of Walton was Lord Byron, who wrote + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb in his gullet + Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it." +</pre> + <p> + But Byron is certainly a poor authority on the quality of mercy. His + contempt need not cause an honest man overwhelming distress. I should call + it a complimentary dislike. + </p> + <p> + The third author who expressed unpleasant sentiments in regard to Walton + was Leigh Hunt. Here, again, I fancy that partizan prejudice had something + to do with the dislike. Hunt was a radical in politics and religion. + Moreover there was a feline strain in his character, which made it + necessary for him to scratch somebody now and then, as a relief to his + feelings. + </p> + <p> + Walton was a great quoter. His book is not "stuffed," as Franck jealously + alleged, but it is certainly well sauced with piquant references to other + writers, as early as the author of the Book of Job, and as late as John + Dennys, who betrayed to the world THE SECRETS OF ANGLING in 1613. Walton + further seasoned his book with fragments of information about fish and + fishing, more or less apocryphal, gathered from Aelian, Pliny, Plutarch, + Sir Francis Bacon, Dubravius, Gesner, Rondeletius, the learned + Aldrovandus, the venerable Bede, the divine Du Bartas, and many others. He + borrowed freely for the adornment of his discourse, and did not scorn to + make use of what may be called LIVE QUOTATIONS,—that is to say, the + unpublished remarks of his near contemporaries, caught in friendly + conversation, or handed down by oral tradition. + </p> + <p> + But these various seasonings did not disguise, they only enhanced, the + delicate flavour of the dish which he served up to his readers. This was + all of his own taking, and of a sweetness quite incomparable. + </p> + <p> + I like a writer who is original enough to water his garden with + quotations, without fear of being drowned out. Such men are Charles Lamb + and James Russell Lowell and John Burroughs. + </p> + <p> + Walton's book is as fresh as a handful of wild violets and sweet lavender. + It breathes the odours of the green fields and the woods. It tastes of + simple, homely, appetizing things like the "syllabub of new verjuice in a + new-made haycock" which the milkwoman promised to give Piscator the next + time he came that way. Its music plays the tune of A CONTENTED HEART over + and over again without dulness, and charms us into harmony with + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "A noise like the sound of a hidden brook + In the leafy month of June, + That to the sleeping woods all night + Singeth a quiet tune." +</pre> + <p> + Walton has been quoted even more than any of the writers whom he quotes. + It would be difficult, even if it were not ungrateful, to write about + angling without referring to him. Some pretty saying, some wise reflection + from his pages, suggests itself at almost every turn of the subject. + </p> + <p> + And yet his book, though it be the best, is not the only readable one that + his favourite recreation has begotten. The literature of angling is + extensive, as any one may see who will look at the list of the collection + presented by Mr. John Bartlett to Harvard University, or study the + catalogue of the piscatorial library of Mr. Dean Sage, of Albany, who + himself has contributed an admirable book on THE RISTIGOUCHE. + </p> + <p> + Nor is this literature altogether composed of dry and technical treatises, + interesting only to the confirmed anglimaniac, or to the young novice + ardent in pursuit of practical information. There is a good deal of juicy + reading in it. + </p> + <p> + Books about angling should be divided (according to De Quincey's method) + into two classes,—the literature of knowledge, and the literature of + power. + </p> + <p> + The first class contains the handbooks on rods and tackle, the directions + how to angle for different kinds of fish, and the guides to various + fishing-resorts. The weakness of these books is that they soon fall out of + date, as the manufacture of tackle is improved, the art of angling + refined, and the fish in once-famous waters are educated or exterminated. + </p> + <p> + Alas, how transient is the fashion of this world, even in angling! The old + manuals with their precise instruction for trimming and painting + trout-rods eighteen feet long, and their painful description of + "oyntments" made of nettle-juice, fish-hawk oil, camphor, cat's fat, or + assafoedita, (supposed to allure the fish,) are altogether behind the age. + Many of the flies described by Charles Cotton and Thomas Barker seem to + have gone out of style among the trout. Perhaps familiarity has bred + contempt. Generation after generation of fish have seen these same old + feathered confections floating on the water, and learned by sharp + experience that they do not taste good. The blase trout demand something + new, something modern. It is for this reason, I suppose, that an + altogether original fly, unheard of, startling, will often do great + execution in an over-fished pool. + </p> + <p> + Certain it is that the art of angling, in settled regions, is growing more + dainty and difficult. You must cast a longer, lighter line; you must use + finer leaders; you must have your flies dressed on smaller hooks. + </p> + <p> + And another thing is certain: in many places (described in the ancient + volumes) where fish were once abundant, they are now like the shipwrecked + sailors in Vergil his Aeneid,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "rari nantes in gurgite vasto." +</pre> + <p> + The floods themselves are also disappearing. Mr. Edmund Clarence Stedman + was telling me, the other day, of the trout-brook that used to run through + the Connecticut village when he nourished a poet's youth. He went back to + visit the stream a few years since, and it was gone, literally vanished + from the face of earth, stolen to make a watersupply for the town, and + used for such base purposes as the washing of clothes and the sprinkling + of streets. + </p> + <p> + I remember an expedition with my father, some twenty years ago, to Nova + Scotia, whither we set out to realize the hopes kindled by an ANGLER'S + GUIDE written in the early sixties. It was like looking for tall clocks in + the farmhouses around Boston. The harvest had been well gleaned before our + arrival, and in the very place where our visionary author located his most + famous catch we found a summer hotel and a sawmill. + </p> + <p> + 'T is strange and sad, how many regions there are where "the fishing was + wonderful forty years ago"! + </p> + <p> + The second class of angling books—the literature of power—includes + all (even those written with some purpose of instruction) in which the + gentle fascinations of the sport, the attractions of living out-of-doors, + the beauties of stream and woodland, the recollections of happy adventure, + and the cheerful thoughts that make the best of a day's luck, come clearly + before the author's mind and find some fit expression in his words. Of + such books, thank Heaven, there is a plenty to bring a Maytide charm and + cheer into the fisherman's dull December. I will name, by way of random + tribute from a grateful but unmethodical memory, a few of these + consolatory volumes. + </p> + <p> + First of all comes a family of books that were born in Scotland and smell + of the heather. + </p> + <p> + Whatever a Scotchman's conscience permits him to do, is likely to be done + with vigour and a fiery mind. In trade and in theology, in fishing and in + fighting, he is all there and thoroughly kindled. + </p> + <p> + There is an old-fashioned book called THE MOOR AND THE LOCH, by John + Colquhoun, which is full of contagious enthusiasm. Thomas Tod Stoddart was + a most impassioned angler, (though over-given to strong language,) and in + his ANGLING REMINISCENCES he has touched the subject with a happy hand,—happiest + when he breaks into poetry and tosses out a song for the fisherman. + Professor John Wilson of the University of Edinburgh held the chair of + Moral Philosophy in that institution, but his true fame rests on his + well-earned titles of A. M. and F. R. S.,—Master of Angling, and + Fisherman Royal of Scotland. His RECREATIONS OF CHRISTOPHER NORTH, albeit + their humour is sometimes too boisterously hammered in, are genial and + generous essays, overflowing with passages of good-fellowship and + pedestrian fancy. I would recommend any person in a dry and melancholy + state of mind to read his paper on "Streams," in the first volume of + ESSAYS CRITICAL AND IMAGINATIVE. But it must be said, by way of warning to + those with whom dryness is a matter of principle, that all Scotch + fishing-books are likely to be sprinkled with Highland Dew. + </p> + <p> + Among English anglers, Sir Humphry Davy is one of whom Christopher North + speaks rather slightingly. Nevertheless his SALMONIA is well worth + reading, not only because it was written by a learned man, but because it + exhales the spirit of cheerful piety and vital wisdom. Charles Kingsley + was another great man who wrote well about angling. His CHALK-STREAM + STUDIES are clear and sparkling. They cleanse the mind and refresh the + heart and put us more in love with living. Of quite a different style are + the MAXIMS AND HINTS FOR AN ANGLER, AND MISERIES OF FISHING, which were + written by Richard Penn, a grandson of the founder of Pennsylvania. This + is a curious and rare little volume, professing to be a compilation from + the "Common Place Book of the Houghton Fishing Club," and dealing with the + subject from a Pickwickian point of view. I suppose that William Penn + would have thought his grandson a frivolous writer. + </p> + <p> + But he could not have entertained such an opinion of the Honourable Robert + Boyle, of whose OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS no less than twelve discourses + treat "of Angling Improved to Spiritual Uses." The titles of some of these + discourses are quaint enough to quote. "Upon the being called upon to rise + early on a very fair morning." "Upon the mounting, singing, and lighting + of larks." "Upon fishing with a counterfeit fly." "Upon a danger arising + from an unseasonable contest with the steersman." "Upon one's drinking + water out of the brim of his hat." With such good texts it is easy to + endure, and easier still to spare, the sermons. + </p> + <p> + Englishmen carry their love of travel into their anglimania, and many of + their books describe fishing adventures in foreign parts. RAMBLES WITH A + FISHING-ROD, by E. S. Roscoe, tells of happy days in the Salzkammergut and + the Bavarian Highlands and Normandy. FISH-TAILS AND A FEW OTHERS, by + Bradnock Hall, contains some delightful chapters on Norway. THE ROD IN + INDIA, by H. S. Thomas, narrates wonderful adventures with the Mahseer and + the Rohu and other pagan fish. + </p> + <p> + But, after all, I like the English angler best when he travels at home, + and writes of dry-fly fishing in the Itchen or the Test, or of wet-fly + fishing in Northumberland or Sutherlandshire. There is a fascinating + booklet that appeared quietly, some years ago, called AN AMATEUR ANGLER'S + DAYS IN DOVE DALE. It runs as easily and merrily and kindly as a little + river, full of peace and pure enjoyment. Other books of the same quality + have since been written by the same pen,—DAYS IN CLOVER, FRESH + WOODS, BY MEADOW AND STREAM. It is no secret, I believe, that the author + is Mr. Edward Marston, the senior member of a London publishing-house. But + he still clings to his retiring pen-name of "The Amateur Angler," and + represents himself, by a graceful fiction, as all unskilled in the art. An + instance of similar modesty is found in Mr. Andrew Lang, who entitles the + first chapter of his delightful ANGLING SKETCHES (without which no + fisherman's library is complete), "Confessions of a Duffer." This an + engaging liberty which no one else would dare to take. + </p> + <p> + The best English fish-story pure and simple, that I know, is "Crocker's + Hole," by H. D. Black-more, the creator of LORNA DOONE. + </p> + <p> + Let us turn now to American books about angling. Of these the merciful + dispensations of Providence have brought forth no small store since Mr. + William Andrew Chatto made the ill-natured remark which is pilloried at + the head of this chapter. By the way, it seems that Mr. Chatto had never + heard of "The Schuylkill Fishing Company," which was founded on that + romantic stream near Philadelphia in 1732, nor seen the AUTHENTIC + HISTORICAL MEMOIR of that celebrated and amusing society. + </p> + <p> + I am sorry for the man who cannot find pleasure in reading the appendix of + THE AMERICAN ANGLER'S BOOK, by Thaddeus Norris; or the discursive pages of + Frank Forester's FISH AND FISHING; or the introduction and notes of that + unexcelled edition of Walton which was made by the Reverend Doctor George + W. Bethune; or SUPERIOR FISHING and GAME FISH OF THE NORTH, by Mr. Robert + B. Roosevelt; or Henshall's BOOK OF THE BLACK BASS; or the admirable + disgressions of Mr. Henry P. Wells, in his FLY-RODS AND FLY-TACKLE, and + THE AMERICAN SALMON ANGLER. Dr. William C. Prime has never put his + profound knowledge of the art of angling into a manual of technical + instruction; but he has written of the delights of the sport in OWL CREEK + LETTERS, and in I GO A-FISHING, and in some of the chapters of ALONG NEW + ENGLAND ROADS and AMONG NEW ENGLAND HILLS, with a persuasive skill that + has created many new anglers, and made many old ones grateful. It is a + fitting coincidence of heredity that his niece, Mrs. Annie Trumbull + Slosson, is the author of the most tender and pathetic of all angling + stories, FISHIN' JIMMY. + </p> + <p> + But it is not only in books written altogether from his peculiar point of + view and to humour his harmless insanity, that the angler may find + pleasant reading about his favourite pastime. There are excellent bits of + fishing scattered all through the field of good literature. It seems as if + almost all the men who could write well had a friendly feeling for the + contemplative sport. + </p> + <p> + Plutarch, in THE LIVES OF THE NOBLE GRECIANS AND ROMANS, tells a capital + fish-story of the manner in which the Egyptian Cleopatra fooled that + far-famed Roman wight, Marc Antony, when they were angling together on the + Nile. As I recall it, from a perusal in early boyhood, Antony was having + very bad luck indeed; in fact he had taken nothing, and was sadly put out + about it. Cleopatra, thinking to get a rise out of him, secretly told one + of her attendants to dive over the opposite side of the barge and fasten a + salt fish to the Roman general's hook. The attendant was much pleased with + this commission, and, having executed it, proceeded to add a fine stroke + of his own; for when he had made the fish fast on the hook, he gave a + great pull to the line and held on tightly. Antony was much excited and + began to haul violently at his tackle. + </p> + <p> + "By Jupiter!" he exclaimed, "it was long in coming, but I have a colossal + bite now." + </p> + <p> + "Have a care," said Cleopatra, laughing behind her sunshade, "or he will + drag you into the water. You must give him line when he pulls hard." + </p> + <p> + "Not a denarius will I give!" rudely responded Antony. "I mean to have + this halibut or Hades!" + </p> + <p> + At this moment the man under the boat, being out of breath, let the line + go, and Antony, falling backward, drew up the salted herring. + </p> + <p> + "Take that fish off the hook, Palinurus," he proudly said. "It is not as + large as I thought, but it looks like the oldest one that has been caught + to-day." + </p> + <p> + Such, in effect, is the tale narrated by the veracious Plutarch. And if + any careful critic wishes to verify my quotation from memory, he may + compare it with the proper page of Langhorne's translation; I think it is + in the second volume, near the end. + </p> + <p> + Sir Walter Scott, who once described himself as + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "No fisher, + But a well-wisher + To the game," +</pre> + <p> + has an amusing passage of angling in the third chapter of REDGAUNTLET. + Darsie Latimer is relating his adventures in Dumfriesshire. "By the way," + says he, "old Cotton's instructions, by which I hoped to qualify myself + for the gentle society of anglers, are not worth a farthing for this + meridian. I learned this by mere accident, after I had waited four mortal + hours. I shall never forget an impudent urchin, a cowherd, about twelve + years old, without either brogue or bonnet, barelegged, with a very + indifferent pair of breeches,—how the villain grinned in scorn at my + landing-net, my plummet, and the gorgeous jury of flies which I had + assembled to destroy all the fish in the river. I was induced at last to + lend the rod to the sneering scoundrel, to see what he would make of it; + and he not only half-filled my basket in an hour, but literally taught me + to kill two trouts with my own hand." + </p> + <p> + Thus ancient and well-authenticated is the superstition of the angling + powers of the barefooted country-boy,—in fiction. + </p> + <p> + Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, in that valuable but over-capitalized book, MY + NOVEL, makes use of Fishing for Allegorical Purposes. The episode of John + Burley and the One-eyed Perch not only points a Moral but adorns the Tale. + </p> + <p> + In the works of R. D. Blackmore, angling plays a less instructive but a + pleasanter part. It is closely interwoven with love. There is a magical + description of trout-fishing on a meadow-brook in ALICE LORRAINE. And who + that has read LORNA DOONE, (pity for the man or woman that knows not the + delight of that book!) can ever forget how young John Ridd dared his way + up the gliddery water-slide, after loaches, and found Lorna in a fair + green meadow adorned with flowers, at the top of the brook? + </p> + <p> + I made a little journey into the Doone Country once, just to see that + brook and to fish in it. The stream looked smaller, and the water-slide + less terrible, than they seemed in the book. But it was a mighty pretty + place after all; and I suppose that even John Ridd, when he came back to + it in after years, found it shrunken a little. + </p> + <p> + All the streams were larger in our boyhood than they are now, except, + perhaps, that which flows from the sweetest spring of all, the fountain of + love, which John Ridd discovered beside the Bagworthy River,—and I, + on the willow-shaded banks of the Patapsco, where the Baltimore girls fish + for gudgeons,—and you? Come, gentle reader, is there no stream whose + name is musical to you, because of a hidden spring of love that you once + found on its shore? The waters of that fountain never fail, and in them + alone we taste the undiminished fulness of immortal youth. + </p> + <p> + The stories of William Black are enlivened with fish, and he knew, better + than most men, how they should be taken. Whenever he wanted to get two + young people engaged to each other, all other devices failing, he sent + them out to angle together. If it had not been for fishing, everything in + A PRINCESS OF THULE and WHITE HEATHER would have gone wrong. + </p> + <p> + But even men who have been disappointed in love may angle for solace or + diversion. I have known some old bachelors who fished excellently well; + and others I have known who could find, and give, much pleasure in a day + on the stream, though they had no skill in the sport. Of this class was + Washington Irving, with an extract from whose SKETCH BOOK I will bring + this rambling dissertation to an end. + </p> + <p> + "Our first essay," says he, "was along a mountain brook among the + highlands of the Hudson; a most unfortunate place for the execution of + those piscatory tactics which had been invented along the velvet margins + of quiet English rivulets. It was one of those wild streams that lavish, + among our romantic solitudes, unheeded beauties enough to fill the + sketch-book of a hunter of the picturesque. Sometimes it would leap down + rocky shelves, making small cascades, over which the trees threw their + broad balancing sprays, and long nameless weeds hung in fringes from the + impending banks, dripping with diamond drops. Sometimes it would brawl and + fret along a ravine in the matted shade of a forest, filling it with + murmurs; and, after this termagant career, would steal forth into open + day, with the most placid, demure face imaginable; as I have seen some + pestilent shrew of a housewife, after filling her home with uproar and + ill-humour, come dimpling out of doors, swimming and courtesying, and + smiling upon all the world. + </p> + <p> + "How smoothly would this vagrant brook glide, at such times, through some + bosom of green meadow-land among the mountains, where the quiet was only + interrupted by the occasional tinkling of a bell from the lazy cattle + among the clover, or the sound of a woodcutter's axe from the neighbouring + forest! + </p> + <p> + "For my part, I was always a bungler at all kinds of sport that required + either patience or adroitness, and had not angled above half an hour + before I had completely 'satisfied the sentiment,' and convinced myself of + the truth of Izaak Walton's opinion, that angling is something like + poetry,—a man must be born to it. I hooked myself instead of the + fish; tangled my line in every tree; lost my bait; broke my rod; until I + gave up the attempt in despair, and passed the day under the trees, + reading old Izaak, satisfied that it was his fascinating vein of honest + simplicity and rural feeling that had bewitched me, and not the passion + for angling." + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A NORWEGIAN HONEYMOON + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "The best rose-bush, after all, is not that which has the + fewest thorns, but that which bears the finest roses." + + —SOLOMON SINGLEWITZ: The Life of Adam. +</pre> + <p> + I + </p> + <p> + It was not all unadulterated sweetness, of course. There were enough + difficulties in the way to make it seem desirable; and a few stings of + annoyance, now and then, lent piquancy to the adventure. But a good + memory, in dealing with the past, has the art of straining out all the + beeswax of discomfort, and storing up little jars of pure hydromel. As we + look back at our six weeks in Norway, we agree that no period of our + partnership in experimental honeymooning has yielded more honey to the + same amount of comb. + </p> + <p> + Several considerations led us to the resolve of taking our honeymoon + experimentally rather than chronologically. We started from the + self-evident proposition that it ought to be the happiest time in married + life. + </p> + <p> + "It is perfectly ridiculous," said my lady Graygown, "to suppose that a + thing like that can be fixed by the calendar. It may possibly fall in the + first month after the wedding, but it is not likely. Just think how + slightly two people know each other when they get married. They are in + love, of course, but that is not at all the same as being well acquainted. + Sometimes the more love, the less acquaintance! And sometimes the more + acquaintance, the less love! Besides, at first there are always the notes + of thanks for the wedding-presents to be written, and the letters of + congratulation to be answered, and it is awfully hard to make each one + sound a little different from the others and perfectly natural. Then, you + know, everybody seems to suspect you of the folly of being newly married. + You run across your friends everywhere, and they grin when they see you. + You can't help feeling as if a lot of people were watching you through + opera-glasses, or taking snap-shots at you with a kodak. It is absurd to + imagine that the first month must be the real honeymoon. And just suppose + it were,—what bad luck that would be! What would there be to look + forward to?" + </p> + <p> + Every word that fell from her lips seemed to me like the wisdom of + Diotima. + </p> + <p> + "You are right," I cried; "Portia could not hold a candle to you for clear + argument. Besides, suppose two people are imprudent enough to get married + in the first week of December, as we did!—what becomes of the + chronological honeymoon then? There is no fishing in December, and all the + rivers of Paradise, at least in our latitude, are frozen up. No, my lady, + we will discover our month of honey by the empirical method. Each year we + will set out together to seek it in a solitude for two; and we will + compare notes on moons, and strike the final balance when we are sure that + our happiest experiment has been completed." + </p> + <p> + We are not sure of that, even yet. We are still engaged, as a committee of + two, in our philosophical investigation, and we decline to make anything + but a report of progress. We know more now than we did when we first went + honeymooning in the city of Washington. For one thing, we are certain that + not even the far-famed rosemary-fields of Narbonne, or the fragrant + hillsides of the Corbieres, yield a sweeter harvest to the busy-ness of + the bees than the Norwegian meadows and mountain-slopes yielded to our + idleness in the summer of 1888. + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + The rural landscape of Norway, on the long easterly slope that leads up to + the watershed among the mountains of the western coast, is not unlike that + of Vermont or New Hampshire. The railway from Christiania to the + Randsfjord carried us through a hilly country of scattered farms and + villages. Wood played a prominent part in the scenery. There were dark + stretches of forest on the hilltops and in the valleys; rivers filled with + floating logs; sawmills beside the waterfalls; wooden farmhouses painted + white; and rail-fences around the fields. The people seemed sturdy, + prosperous, independent. They had the familiar habit of coming down to the + station to see the train arrive and depart. We might have fancied + ourselves on a journey through the Connecticut valley, if it had not been + for the soft sing-song of the Norwegian speech and the uniform politeness + of the railway officials. + </p> + <p> + What a room that was in the inn at Randsfjord where we spent our first + night out! Vast, bare, primitive, with eight windows to admit the + persistent nocturnal twilight; a sea-like floor of blue-painted boards, + unbroken by a single island of carpet; and a castellated stove in one + corner: an apartment for giants, with two little beds for dwarfs on + opposite shores of the ocean. There was no telephone; so we arranged a + system of communication with a fishing-line, to make sure that the sleepy + partner should be awake in time for the early boat in the morning. + </p> + <p> + The journey up the lake took seven hours, and reminded us of a voyage on + Lake George; placid, picturesque, and pervaded by summer boarders. + Somewhere on the way we had lunch, and were well fortified to take the + road when the steamboat landed us at Odnaes, at the head of the lake, + about two o'clock in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + There are several methods in which you may drive through Norway. The + government maintains posting-stations at the farms along the main + travelled highways, where you can hire horses and carriages of various + kinds. There are also English tourist agencies which make a business of + providing travellers with complete transportation. You may try either of + these methods alone, or you may make a judicious mixture. + </p> + <p> + Thus, by an application of the theory of permutations and combinations, + you have your choice among four ways of accomplishing a driving-tour. + First, you may engage a carriage and pair, with a driver, from one of the + tourist agencies, and roll through your journey in sedentary case, + provided your horses do not go lame or give out. Second, you may rely + altogether upon the posting-stations to send you on your journey; and this + is a very pleasant, lively way, provided there is not a crowd of + travellers on the road before you, who take up all the comfortable + conveyances and leave you nothing but a jolting cart or a ramshackle + KARIOL of the time of St. Olaf. Third, you may rent an easy-riding vehicle + (by choice a well-hung gig) for the entire trip, and change ponies at the + stations as you drive along; this is the safest way. The fourth method is + to hire your horseflesh at the beginning for the whole journey, and pick + up your vehicles from place to place. This method is theoretically + possible, but I do not know any one who has tried it. + </p> + <p> + Our gig was waiting for us at Odnaes. There was a brisk little + mouse-coloured pony in the shafts; and it took but a moment to strap our + leather portmanteau on the board at the back, perch the postboy on top of + it, and set out for our first experience of a Norwegian driving-tour. + </p> + <p> + The road at first was level and easy; and we bowled along smoothly through + the valley of the Etnaelv, among drooping birch-trees and green fields + where the larks were singing. At Tomlevolden, ten miles farther on, we + reached the first station, a comfortable old farmhouse, with a great array + of wooden outbuildings. Here we had a chance to try our luck with the + Norwegian language in demanding "en hest, saa straxt som muligt." This was + what the guide-book told us to say when we wanted a horse. + </p> + <p> + There is great fun in making a random cast on the surface of a strange + language. You cannot tell what will come up. It is like an experiment in + witchcraft. We should not have been at all surprised, I must confess, if + our preliminary incantation had brought forth a cow or a basket of eggs. + </p> + <p> + But the good people seemed to divine our intentions; and while we were + waiting for one of the stable-boys to catch and harness the new horse, a + yellow-haired maiden inquired, in very fair English, if we would not be + pleased to have a cup of tea and some butter-bread; which we did with + great comfort. + </p> + <p> + The SKYDSGUT, or so-called postboy, for the next stage of the journey, was + a full-grown man of considerable weight. As he climbed to his perch on our + portmanteau, my lady Graygown congratulated me on the prudence which had + provided that one side of that receptacle should be of an inflexible + stiffness, quite incapable of being crushed; otherwise, asked she, what + would have become of her Sunday frock under the pressure of this stern + necessity of a postboy? + </p> + <p> + But I think we should not have cared very much if all our luggage had been + smashed on this journey, for the road now began to ascend, and the views + over the Etnadal, with its winding river, were of a breadth and sweetness + most consoling. Up and up we went, curving in and out through the forest, + crossing wild ravines and shadowy dells, looking back at every turn on the + wide landscape bathed in golden light. At the station of Sveen, where we + changed horse and postboy again, it was already evening. The sun was down, + but the mystical radiance of the northern twilight illumined the sky. The + dark fir-woods spread around us, and their odourous breath was diffused + through the cool, still air. We were crossing the level summit of the + plateau, twenty-three hundred feet above the sea. Two tiny woodland lakes + gleamed out among the trees. Then the road began to slope gently towards + the west, and emerged suddenly on the edge of the forest, looking out over + the long, lovely vale of Valders, with snow-touched mountains on the + horizon, and the river Baegna shimmering along its bed, a thousand feet + below us. + </p> + <p> + What a heart-enlarging outlook! What a keen joy of motion, as the wheels + rolled down the long incline, and the sure-footed pony swung between the + shafts and rattled his hoofs merrily on the hard road! What long, deep + breaths of silent pleasure in the crisp night air! What wondrous mingling + of lights in the afterglow of sunset, and the primrose bloom of the first + stars, and faint foregleamings of the rising moon creeping over the hill + behind us! What perfection of companionship without words, as we rode + together through a strange land, along the edge of the dark! + </p> + <p> + When we finished the thirty-fifth mile, and drew up in the courtyard of + the station at Frydenlund, Graygown sprang out, with a little sigh of + regret. + </p> + <p> + "Is it last night," she cried, "or to-morrow morning? I have n't the least + idea what time it is; it seems as if we had been travelling in eternity." + </p> + <p> + "It is just ten o'clock," I answered, "and the landlord says there will be + a hot supper of trout ready for us in five minutes." + </p> + <p> + It would be vain to attempt to give a daily record of the whole journey in + which we made this fair beginning. It was a most idle and unsystematic + pilgrimage. We wandered up and down, and turned aside when fancy beckoned. + Sometimes we hurried on as fast as the horses would carry us, driving + sixty or seventy miles a day; sometimes we loitered and dawdled, as if we + did not care whether we got anywhere or not. If a place pleased us, we + stayed and tried the fishing. If we were tired of driving, we took to the + water, and travelled by steamer along a fjord, or hired a rowboat to cross + from point to point. One day we would be in a good little hotel, with + polyglot guests, and serving-maids in stagey Norse costumes,—like + the famous inn at Stalheim, which commands the amazing panorama of the + Naerodal. Another day we would lodge in a plain farmhouse like the station + at Nedre Vasenden, where eggs and fish were the staples of diet, and the + farmer's daughter wore the picturesque peasants' dress, with its tall cap, + without any dramatic airs. Lakes and rivers, precipices and gorges, + waterfalls and glaciers and snowy mountains were our daily repast. We + drove over five hundred miles in various kinds of open wagons, KARIOLS for + one, and STOLKJAERRES for two, after we had left our comfortable gig + behind us. We saw the ancient dragon-gabled church of Burgund; and the + delightful, showery town of Bergen; and the gloomy cliffs of the + Geiranger-Fjord laced with filmy cataracts; and the bewitched crags of the + Romsdal; and the wide, desolate landscape of Jerkin; and a hundred other + unforgotten scenes. Somehow or other we went, (around and about, and up + and down, now on wheels, and now on foot, and now in a boat,) all the way + from Christiania to Throndhjem. My lady Graygown could give you the exact + itinerary, for she has been well brought up, and always keeps a diary. All + I know is, that we set out from one city and arrived at the other, and we + gathered by the way a collection of instantaneous photographs. I am going + to turn them over now, and pick out a few of the clearest pictures. + </p> + <p> + III + </p> + <p> + Here is the bridge over the Naeselv at Fagernaes. Just below it is a good + pool for trout, but the river is broad and deep and swift. It is difficult + wading to get out within reach of the fish. I have taken half a dozen + small ones and come to the end of my cast. There is a big one lying out in + the middle of the river, I am sure. But the water already rises to my + hips; another step will bring it over the top of my waders, and send me + downstream feet uppermost. + </p> + <p> + "Take care!" cries Graygown from the grassy bank, where she sits placidly + crocheting some mysterious fabric of white yarn. + </p> + <p> + She does not see the large rock lying at the bottom of the river just + beyond me. If I can step on that, and stand there without being swept + away, I can reach the mid-current with my flies. It is a long stride and a + slippery foothold, but by good luck "the last step which costs" is + accomplished. The tiny black and orange hackle goes curling out over the + stream, lights softly, and swings around with the current, folding and + expanding its feathers as if it were alive. The big trout takes it + promptly the instant it passes over him; and I play him and net him + without moving from my perilous perch. + </p> + <p> + Graygown waves her crochet-work like a flag, "Bravo!" she cries. "That's a + beauty, nearly two pounds! But do be careful about coming back; you are + not good enough to take any risks yet." + </p> + <p> + The station at Skogstad is a solitary farmhouse lying far up on the bare + hillside, with its barns and out-buildings grouped around a central + courtyard, like a rude fortress. The river travels along the valley below, + now wrestling its way through a narrow passage among the rocks, now + spreading out at leisure in a green meadow. As we cross the bridge, the + crystal water is changed to opal by the sunset glow, and a gentle breeze + ruffles the long pools, and the trout are rising freely. It is the perfect + hour for fishing. Would Graygown dare to drive on alone to the gate of the + fortress, and blow upon the long horn which doubtless hangs beside it, and + demand admittance and a lodging, "in the name of the great Jehovah and the + Continental Congress,"—while I angle down the river a mile or so? + </p> + <p> + Certainly she would. What door is there in Europe at which the American + girl is afraid to knock? "But wait a moment. How do you ask for fried + chicken and pancakes in Norwegian? KYLLING OG PANDEKAGE? How fierce it + sounds! All right now. Run along and fish." + </p> + <p> + The river welcomes me like an old friend. The tune that it sings is the + same that the flowing water repeats all around the world. Not otherwise do + the lively rapids carry the familiar air, and the larger falls drone out a + burly bass, along the west branch of the Penobscot, or down the valley of + the Bouquet. But here there are no forests to conceal the course of the + stream. It lies as free to the view as a child's thought. As I follow on + from pool to pool, picking out a good trout here and there, now from a + rocky corner edged with foam, now from a swift gravelly run, now from a + snug hiding-place that the current has hollowed out beneath the bank, all + the way I can see the fortress far above me on the hillside. + </p> + <p> + I am as sure that it has already surrendered to Graygown as if I could + discern her white banner of crochet-work floating from the battlements. + </p> + <p> + Just before dark, I climb the hill with a heavy basket of fish. The castle + gate is open. The scent of chicken and pancakes salutes the weary pilgrim. + In a cosy little parlour, adorned with fluffy mats and pictures framed in + pine-cones, lit by a hanging lamp with glass pendants, sits the mistress + of the occasion, calmly triumphant and plying her crochet-needle. + </p> + <p> + There is something mysterious about a woman's fancy-work. It seems to have + all the soothing charm of the tobacco-plant, without its inconveniences. + Just to see her tranquillity, while she relaxes her mind and busies her + fingers with a bit of tatting or embroidery or crochet, gives me a sense + of being domesticated, a "homey" feeling, anywhere in the wide world. + </p> + <p> + If you ever go to Norway, you must be sure to see the Loenvand. You can + set out from the comfortable hotel at Faleide, go up the Indvik Fjord in a + rowboat, cross over a two-mile hill on foot or by carriage, spend a happy + day on the lake, and return to your inn in time for a late supper. The + lake is perhaps the most beautiful in Norway. Long and narrow, it lies + like a priceless emerald of palest green, hidden and guarded by jealous + mountains. It is fed by huge glaciers, which hang over the shoulders of + the hills like ragged cloaks of ice. + </p> + <p> + As we row along the shore, trolling in vain for the trout that live in the + ice-cold water, fragments of the tattered cloth-of-silver far above us, on + the opposite side, are loosened by the touch of the summer sun, and fall + from the precipice. They drift downward, at first, as noiselessly as + thistledowns; then they strike the rocks and come crashing towards the + lake with the hollow roar of an avalanche. + </p> + <p> + At the head of the lake we find ourselves in an enormous amphitheatre of + mountains. Glaciers are peering down upon us. Snow-fields glare at us with + glistening eyes. Black crags seem to bend above us with an eternal frown. + Streamers of foam float from the forehead of the hills and the lips of the + dark ravines. But there is a little river of cold, pure water flowing from + one of the rivers of ice, and a pleasant shelter of young trees and bushes + growing among the debris of shattered rocks; and there we build our + camp-fire and eat our lunch. + </p> + <p> + Hunger is a most impudent appetite. It makes a man forget all the + proprieties. What place is there so lofty, so awful, that he will not dare + to sit down in it and partake of food? Even on the side of Mount Sinai, + the elders of Israel spread their out-of-door table, "and did eat and + drink." + </p> + <p> + I see the Tarn of the Elk at this moment, just as it looked in the clear + sunlight of that August afternoon, ten years ago. Far down in a hollow of + the desolate hills it nestles, four thousand feet above the sea. The + moorland trail hangs high above it, and, though it is a mile away, every + curve of the treeless shore, every shoal and reef in the light green water + is clearly visible. With a powerful field-glass one can almost see the + large trout for which the pond is famous. + </p> + <p> + The shelter-hut on the bank is built of rough gray stones, and the roof is + leaky to the light as well as to the weather. But there are two beds in + it, one for my guide and one for me; and a practicable fireplace, which is + soon filled with a blaze of comfort. There is also a random library of + novels, which former fishermen have thoughtfully left behind them. I like + strong reading in the wilderness. Give me a story with plenty of danger + and wholesome fighting in it,—"The Three Musketeers," or "Treasure + Island," or "The Afghan's Knife." Intricate studies of social dilemmas and + tales of mild philandering seem bloodless and insipid. + </p> + <p> + The trout in the Tarn of the Elk are large, undoubtedly, but they are also + few in number and shy in disposition. Either some of the peasants have + been fishing over them with the deadly "otter," or else they belong to + that variety of the trout family known as TRUTTA DAMNOSA,—the + species which you can see but cannot take. We watched these aggravating + fish playing on the surface at sunset; we saw them dart beneath our boat + in the early morning; but not until a driving snowstorm set in, about noon + of the second day, did we succeed in persuading any of them to take the + fly. Then they rose, for a couple of hours, with amiable perversity. I + caught five, weighing between two and four pounds each, and stopped + because my hands were so numb that I could cast no longer. + </p> + <p> + Now for a long tramp over the hills and home. Yes, home; for yonder in the + white house at Drivstuen, with fuchsias and geraniums blooming in the + windows, and a pretty, friendly Norse girl to keep her company, my lady is + waiting for me. See, she comes running out to the door, in the gathering + dusk, with a red flower in her hair, and hails me with the fisherman's + greeting. WHAT LUCK? + </p> + <p> + Well, THIS luck, at all events! I can show you a few good fish, and sit + down with you to a supper of reindeer-venison and a quiet evening of music + and talk. + </p> + <p> + Shall I forget thee, hospitable Stuefloten, dearest to our memory of all + the rustic stations in Norway? There are no stars beside thy name in the + pages of Baedeker. But in the book of our hearts a whole constellation is + thine. + </p> + <p> + The long, low, white farmhouse stands on a green hill at the head of the + Romsdal. A flourishing crop of grass and flowers grows on the stable-roof, + and there is a little belfry with a big bell to call the labourers home + from the fields. In the corner of the living-room of the old house there + is a broad fireplace built across the angle. Curious cupboards are tucked + away everywhere. The long table in the dining-room groans thrice a day + with generous fare. There are as many kinds of hot bread as in a Virginia + country-house; the cream is thick enough to make a spoon stand up in + amazement; once, at dinner, we sat embarrassed before six different + varieties of pudding. + </p> + <p> + In the evening, when the saffron light is beginning to fade, we go out and + walk in the road before the house, looking down the long mystical vale of + the Rauma, or up to the purple western hills from which the clear streams + of the Ulvaa flow to meet us. + </p> + <p> + Above Stuefloten the Rauma lingers and meanders through a smoother and + more open valley, with broad beds of gravel and flowery meadows. Here the + trout and grayling grow fat and lusty, and here we angle for them, day + after day, in water so crystalline that when one steps into the stream one + hardly knows whether to expect a depth of six inches or six feet. + </p> + <p> + Tiny English flies and leaders of gossamer are the tackle for such water + in midsummer. With this delicate outfit, and with a light hand and a long + line, one may easily outfish the native angler, and fill a twelve-pound + basket every fair day. I remember an old Norwegian, an inveterate + fisherman, whose footmarks we saw ahead of us on the stream all through an + afternoon. Footmarks I call them; and so they were, literally, for there + were only the prints of a single foot to be seen on the banks of sand, and + between them, a series of small, round, deep holes. + </p> + <p> + "What kind of a bird made those marks, Frederik?" I asked my faithful + guide. + </p> + <p> + "That is old Pedersen," he said, "with his wooden leg. He makes a dot + after every step. We shall catch him in a little while." + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, about six o'clock we saw him standing on a grassy point, + hurling his line, with a fat worm on the end of it, far across the stream, + and letting it drift down with the current. But the water was too fine for + that style of fishing, and the poor old fellow had but a half dozen little + fish. My creel was already overflowing, so I emptied out all of the + grayling into his bag, and went on up the river to complete my tale of + trout before dark. + </p> + <p> + And when the fishing is over, there is Graygown with the wagon, waiting at + the appointed place under the trees, beside the road. The sturdy white + pony trots gayly homeward. The pale yellow stars blossom out above the + hills again, as they did on that first night when we were driving down + into the Valders. Frederik leans over the back of the seat, telling us + marvellous tales, in his broken English, of the fishing in a certain lake + among the mountains, and of the reindeer-shooting on the fjeld beyond it. + </p> + <p> + "It is sad that you go to-morrow," says he "but you come back another + year, I think, to fish in that lake, and to shoot those reindeer." + </p> + <p> + Yes, Frederik, we are coming back to Norway some day, perhaps,—who + can tell? It is one of the hundred places that we are vaguely planning to + revisit. For, though we did not see the midnight sun there, we saw the + honeymoon most distinctly. And it was bright enough to take pictures by + its light. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHO OWNS THE MOUNTAINS? + </h2> + <p> + "My heart is fixed firm and stable in the belief that ultimately the + sunshine and the summer, the flowers and the azure sky, shall become, as + it were, interwoven into man's existence. He shall take from all their + beauty and enjoy their glory."—RICHARD JEFFERIES: The Life of the + Fields. + </p> + <p> + It was the little lad that asked the question; and the answer also, as you + will see, was mainly his. + </p> + <p> + We had been keeping Sunday afternoon together in our favourite fashion, + following out that pleasant text which tells us to "behold the fowls of + the air." There is no injunction of Holy Writ less burdensome in + acceptance, or more profitable in obedience, than this easy out-of-doors + commandment. For several hours we walked in the way of this precept, + through the untangled woods that lie behind the Forest Hills Lodge, where + a pair of pigeon-hawks had their nest; and around the brambly shores of + the small pond, where Maryland yellow-throats and song-sparrows were + settled; and under the lofty hemlocks of the fragment of forest across the + road, where rare warblers flitted silently among the tree-tops. The light + beneath the evergreens was growing dim as we came out from their shadow + into the widespread glow of the sunset, on the edge of a grassy hill, + overlooking the long valley of the Gale River, and uplooking to the + Franconia Mountains. + </p> + <p> + It was the benediction hour. The placid air of the day shed a new + tranquillity over the consoling landscape. The heart of the earth seemed + to taste a repose more perfect than that of common days. A hermit-thrush, + far up the vale, sang his vesper hymn; while the swallows, seeking their + evening meal, circled above the river-fields without an effort, twittering + softly, now and then, as if they must give thanks. Slight and indefinable + touches in the scene, perhaps the mere absence of the tiny human figures + passing along the road or labouring in the distant meadows, perhaps the + blue curls of smoke rising lazily from the farmhouse chimneys, or the + family groups sitting under the maple-trees before the door, diffused a + sabbath atmosphere over the world. + </p> + <p> + Then said the lad, lying on the grass beside me, "Father, who owns the + mountains?" + </p> + <p> + I happened to have heard, the day before, of two or three lumber companies + that had bought some of the woodland slopes; so I told him their names, + adding that there were probably a good many different owners, whose claims + taken all together would cover the whole Franconia range of hills. + </p> + <p> + "Well," answered the lad, after a moment of silence, "I don't see what + difference that makes. Everybody can look at them." + </p> + <p> + They lay stretched out before us in the level sunlight, the sharp peaks + outlined against the sky, the vast ridges of forest sinking smoothly + towards the valleys, the deep hollows gathering purple shadows in their + bosoms, and the little foothills standing out in rounded promontories of + brighter green from the darker mass behind them. + </p> + <p> + Far to the east, the long comb of Twin Mountain extended itself back into + the untrodden wilderness. Mount Garfield lifted a clear-cut pyramid + through the translucent air. The huge bulk of Lafayette ascended + majestically in front of us, crowned with a rosy diadem of rocks. Eagle + Cliff and Bald Mountain stretched their line of scalloped peaks across the + entrance to the Notch. Beyond that shadowy vale, the swelling summits of + Cannon Mountain rolled away to meet the tumbling waves of Kinsman, + dominated by one loftier crested billow that seemed almost ready to curl + and break out of green silence into snowy foam. Far down the sleeping + Landaff valley the undulating dome of Moosilauke trembled in the distant + blue. + </p> + <p> + They were all ours, from crested cliff to wooded base. The solemn groves + of firs and spruces, the plumed sierras of lofty pines, the stately + pillared forests of birch and beech, the wild ravines, the tremulous + thickets of silvery poplar, the bare peaks with their wide outlooks, and + the cool vales resounding with the ceaseless song of little rivers,—we + knew and loved them all; they ministered peace and joy to us; they were + all ours, though we held no title deeds and our ownership had never been + recorded. + </p> + <p> + What is property, after all? The law says there are two kinds, real and + personal. But it seems to me that the only real property is that which is + truly personal, that which we take into our inner life and make our own + forever, by understanding and admiration and sympathy and love. This is + the only kind of possession that is worth anything. + </p> + <p> + A gallery of great paintings adorns the house of the Honourable Midas + Bond, and every year adds a new treasure to his collection. He knows how + much they cost him, and he keeps the run of the quotations at the auction + sales, congratulating himself as the price of the works of his well-chosen + artists rises in the scale, and the value of his art treasures is + enhanced. But why should he call them his? He is only their custodian. He + keeps them well varnished, and framed in gilt. But he never passes through + those gilded frames into the world of beauty that lies behind the painted + canvas. He knows nothing of those lovely places from which the artist's + soul and hand have drawn their inspiration. They are closed and barred to + him. He has bought the pictures, but he cannot buy the key. The poor art + student who wanders through his gallery, lingering with awe and love + before the masterpieces, owns them far more truly than Midas does. + </p> + <p> + Pomposus Silverman purchased a rich library a few years ago. The books + were rare and costly. That was the reason why Pomposus bought them. He was + proud to feel that he was the possessor of literary treasures which were + not to be found in the houses of his wealthiest acquaintances. But the + threadbare Bucherfreund, who was engaged at a slender salary to catalogue + the library and take care of it, became the real proprietor. Pomposus paid + for the books, but Bucherfreund enjoyed them. + </p> + <p> + I do not mean to say that the possession of much money is always a barrier + to real wealth of mind and heart. Nor would I maintain that all the poor + of this world are rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom. But some of them + are. And if some of the rich of this world (through the grace of Him with + whom all things are possible) are also modest in their tastes, and gentle + in their hearts, and open in their minds, and ready to be pleased with + unbought pleasures, they simply share in the best things which are + provided for all. + </p> + <p> + I speak not now of the strife that men wage over the definition and the + laws of property. Doubtless there is much here that needs to be set right. + There are men and women in the world who are shut out from the right to + earn a living, so poor that they must perish for want of daily bread, so + full of misery that there is no room for the tiniest seed of joy in their + lives. This is the lingering shame of civilization. Some day, perhaps, we + shall find the way to banish it. Some day, every man shall have his title + to a share in the world's great work and the world's large joy. + </p> + <p> + But meantime it is certain that, where there are a hundred poor bodies who + suffer from physical privation, there are a thousand poor souls who suffer + from spiritual poverty. To relive this greater suffering there needs no + change of laws, only a change of heart. + </p> + <p> + What does it profit a man to be the landed proprietor of countless acres + unless he can reap the harvest of delight that blooms from every rood of + God's earth for the seeing eye and the loving spirit? And who can reap + that harvest so closely that there shall not be abundant gleaning left for + all mankind? The most that a wide estate can yield to its legal owner is a + living. But the real owner can gather from a field of goldenrod, shining + in the August sunlight, an unearned increment of delight. + </p> + <p> + We measure success by accumulation. The measure is false. The true measure + is appreciation. He who loves most has most. + </p> + <p> + How foolishly we train ourselves for the work of life! We give our most + arduous and eager efforts to the cultivation of those faculties which will + serve us in the competitions of the forum and the market-place. But if we + were wise, we should care infinitely more for the unfolding of those + inward, secret, spiritual powers by which alone we can become the owners + of anything that is worth having. Surely God is the great proprietor. Yet + all His works He has given away. He holds no title-deeds. The one thing + that is His, is the perfect understanding, the perfect joy, the perfect + love, of all things that He has made. To a share in this high ownership He + welcomes all who are poor in spirit. This is the earth which the meek + inherit. This is the patrimony of the saints in light. + </p> + <p> + "Come, laddie," I said to my comrade, "let us go home. You and I are very + rich. We own the mountains. But we can never sell them, and we don't want + to." + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A LAZY, IDLE BROOK + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Perpetual devotion to what a man calls his business is only + to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things. + And it is not by any means certain that a man's business is + the most important thing he has to do." + + —ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON: An Apology for Idlers. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. A CASUAL INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + On the South Shore of Long Island, all things incline to a natural + somnolence. There are no ambitious mountains, no braggart cliffs, no hasty + torrents, no hustling waterfalls in that land, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "In which it seemeth always afternoon." +</pre> + <p> + The salt meadows sleep in the summer sun; the farms and market-gardens + yield a placid harvest to a race of singularly unhurried tillers of the + soil; the low hills rise with gentle slopes, not caring to get too high in + the world, only far enough to catch a pleasant glimpse of the sea and a + breath of fresh air; the very trees grow leisurely, as if they felt that + they had "all the time there is." And from this dreamy land, close as it + lies to the unresting ocean, the tumult of the breakers and the foam of + ever-turning tides are shut off by the languid lagoons of the Great South + Bay and a long range of dunes, crested with wire-grass, bay-bushes, and + wild-roses. + </p> + <p> + In such a country you could not expect a little brook to be noisy, fussy, + energetic. If it were not lazy, it would be out of keeping. + </p> + <p> + But the actual and undisguised idleness of this particular brook was + another affair, and one in which it was distinguished among its fellows. + For almost all the other little rivers of the South Shore, lazy as they + may be by nature, yet manage to do some kind of work before they finish + the journey from their crystal-clear springs into the brackish waters of + the bay. They turn the wheels of sleepy gristmills, while the miller sits + with his hands in his pockets underneath the willow-trees. They fill + reservoirs out of which great steam-engines pump the water to quench the + thirst of Brooklyn. Even the smaller streams tarry long enough in their + seaward sauntering to irrigate a few cranberry-bogs and so provide that + savoury sauce which makes the Long Island turkey a fitter subject for + Thanksgiving. + </p> + <p> + But this brook of which I speak did none of these useful things. It was + absolutely out of business. + </p> + <p> + There was not a mill, nor a reservoir, nor a cranberry-bog, on all its + course of a short mile. The only profitable affair it ever undertook was + to fill a small ice-pond near its entrance into the Great South Bay. You + could hardly call this a very energetic enterprise. It amounted to little + more than a good-natured consent to allow itself to be used by the winter + for the making of ice, if the winter happened to be cold enough. Even this + passive industry came to nothing; for the water, being separated from the + bay only by a short tideway under a wooden bridge on the south country + road, was too brackish to freeze easily; and the ice, being pervaded with + weeds, was not much relished by the public. So the wooden ice-house, + innocent of paint, and toned by the weather to a soft, sad-coloured gray, + stood like an improvised ruin among the pine-trees beside the pond. + </p> + <p> + It was through this unharvested ice-pond, this fallow field of water, that + my lady Graygown and I entered on acquaintance with our lazy, idle brook. + We had a house, that summer, a few miles down the bay. But it was a very + small house, and the room that we like best was out of doors. So we spent + much time in a sailboat,—by name "The Patience,"—making + voyages of exploration into watery corners and byways. Sailing past the + wooden bridge one day, when a strong east wind had made a very low tide, + we observed the water flowing out beneath the road with an eddying + current. We were interested to discover where such a stream came from. But + the sailboat could not go under the bridge, nor even make a landing on the + shore without risk of getting aground. The next day we came back in a + rowboat to follow the clue of curiosity. The tide was high now, and we + passed with the reversed current under the bridge, almost bumping our + heads against the timbers. Emerging upon the pond, we rowed across its + shallow, weed-encumbered waters, and were introduced without ceremony to + one of the most agreeable brooks that we had ever met. + </p> + <p> + It was quite broad where it came into the pond,—a hundred feet from + side to side,—bordered with flags and rushes and feathery meadow + grasses. The real channel meandered in sweeping curves from bank to bank, + and the water, except in the swifter current, was filled with an amazing + quantity of some aquatic moss. The woods came straggling down on either + shore. There were fallen trees in the stream here and there. On one of the + points an old swamp-maple, with its decrepit branches and its leaves + already touched with the hectic colours of decay, hung far out over the + water which was undermining it, looking and leaning downward, like an aged + man who bends, half-sadly and half-willingly, towards the grave. + </p> + <p> + But for the most part the brook lay wide open to the sky, and the tide, + rising and sinking somewhat irregularly in the pond below, made curious + alternations in its depth and in the swiftness of its current. For about + half a mile we navigated this lazy little river, and then we found that + rowing would carry us no farther, for we came to a place where the stream + issued with a livelier flood from an archway in a thicket. + </p> + <p> + This woodland portal was not more than four feet wide, and the branches of + the small trees were closely interwoven overhead. We shipped the oars and + took one of them for a paddle. Stooping down, we pushed the boat through + the archway and found ourselves in the Fairy Dell. It was a long, narrow + bower, perhaps four hundred feet from end to end, with the brook dancing + through it in a joyous, musical flow over a bed of clean yellow sand and + white pebbles. There were deep places in the curves where you could hardly + touch bottom with an oar, and shallow places in the straight runs where + the boat would barely float. Not a ray of unbroken sunlight leaked through + the green roof of this winding corridor; and all along the sides there + were delicate mosses and tall ferns and wildwood flowers that love the + shade. + </p> + <p> + At the upper end of the bower our progress in the boat was barred by a low + bridge, on a forgotten road that wound through the pine-woods. Here I left + my lady Graygown, seated on the shady corner of the bridge with a book, + swinging her feet over the stream, while I set out to explore its further + course. Above the wood-road there were no more fairy dells, nor easy-going + estuaries. The water came down through the most complicated piece of + underbrush that I have ever encountered. Alders and swamp maples and + pussy-willows and gray birches grew together in a wild confusion. + Blackberry bushes and fox-grapes and cat-briers trailed and twisted + themselves in an incredible tangle. There was only one way to advance, and + that was to wade in the middle of the brook, stooping low, lifting up the + pendulous alder-branches, threading a tortuous course, now under and now + over the innumerable obstacles, as a darning-needle is pushed in and out + through the yarn of a woollen stocking. + </p> + <p> + It was dark and lonely in that difficult passage. The brook divided into + many channels, turning this way and that way, as if it were lost in the + woods. There were huge clumps of OSMUNDA REGALIS spreading their fronds in + tropical profusion. Mouldering logs were covered with moss. The water + gurgled slowly into deep corners under the banks. Catbirds and blue jays + fluttered screaming from the thickets. Cotton-tailed rabbits darted away, + showing the white flag of fear. Once I thought I saw the fuscous gleam of + a red fox stealing silently through the brush. It would have been no + surprise to hear the bark of a raccoon, or see the eyes of a wildcat + gleaming through the leaves. + </p> + <p> + For more than an hour I was pushing my way through this miniature + wilderness of half a mile; and then I emerged suddenly, to find myself + face to face with—a railroad embankment and the afternoon express, + with its parlour-cars, thundering down to Southampton! + </p> + <p> + It was a strange and startling contrast. The explorer's joy, the sense of + adventure, the feeling of wildness and freedom, withered and crumpled + somewhat preposterously at the sight of the parlour-cars. My scratched + hands and wet boots and torn coat seemed unkempt and disreputable. Perhaps + some of the well-dressed people looking out at the windows of the train + were the friends with whom we were to dine on Saturday. BATECHE! What + would they say to such a costume as mine? What did I care what they said! + </p> + <p> + But, all the same, it was a shock, a disenchantment, to find that + civilization, with all its absurdities and conventionalities, was so + threateningly close to my new-found wilderness. My first enthusiasm was + not a little chilled as I walked back, along an open woodland path, to the + bridge where Graygown was placidly reading. Reading, I say, though her + book was closed, and her brown eyes were wandering over the green leaves + of the thicket, and the white clouds drifting, drifting lazily across the + blue deep of the sky. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. A BETTER ACQUAINTANCE + </h2> + <p> + On the voyage home, she gently talked me out of my disappointment, and + into a wiser frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + It was a surprise, of course, she admitted, to find that our wilderness + was so little, and to discover the trail of a parlour-car on the edge of + Paradise. But why not turn the surprise around, and make it pleasant + instead of disagreeable? Why not look at the contrast from the side that + we liked best? + </p> + <p> + It was not necessary that everybody should take the same view of life that + pleased us. The world would not get on very well without people who + preferred parlour-cars to canoes, and patent-leather shoes to India-rubber + boots, and ten-course dinners to picnics in the woods. These good people + were unconsciously toiling at the hard and necessary work of life in order + that we, of the chosen and fortunate few, should be at liberty to enjoy + the best things in the world. + </p> + <p> + Why should we neglect our opportunities, which were also our real duties? + The nervous disease of civilization might prevail all around us, but that + ought not to destroy our grateful enjoyment of the lucid intervals that + were granted to us by a merciful Providence. + </p> + <p> + Why should we not take this little untamed brook, running its humble + course through the borders of civilized life and midway between two + flourishing summer resorts,—a brook without a single house or a + cultivated field on its banks, as free and beautiful and secluded as if it + flowed through miles of trackless forest,—why not take this brook as + a sign that the ordering of the universe had a "good intention" even for + inveterate idlers, and that the great Arranger of the world felt some + kindness for such gipsy-hearts as ours? What law, human or divine, was + there to prevent us from making this stream our symbol of deliverance from + the conventional and commonplace, our guide to liberty and a quiet mind? + </p> + <p> + So reasoned Graygown with her + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "most silver flow + Of subtle-paced counsel in distress." +</pre> + <p> + And, according to her word, so did we. That lazy, idle brook became to us + one of the best of friends; the pathfinder of happiness on many a bright + summer day; and, through long vacations, the faithful encourager of + indolence. + </p> + <p> + Indolence in the proper sense of the word, you understand. The meaning + which is commonly given to it, as Archbishop Trench pointed out in his + suggestive book about WORDS AND THEIR USES, is altogether false. To speak + of indolence as if it were a vice is just a great big verbal slander. + </p> + <p> + Indolence is a virtue. It comes from two Latin words, which mean freedom + from anxiety or grief. And that is a wholesome state of mind. There are + times and seasons when it is even a pious and blessed state of mind. Not + to be in a hurry; not to be ambitious or jealous or resentful; not to feel + envious of anybody; not to fret about to-day nor worry about to-morrow,—that + is the way we ought all to feel at some time in our lives; and that is the + kind of indolence in which our brook faithfully encouraged us. + </p> + <p> + 'T is an age in which such encouragement is greatly needed. We have fallen + so much into the habit of being always busy that we know not how nor when + to break it off with firmness. Our business tags after us into the midst + of our pleasures, and we are ill at ease beyond reach of the telegraph and + the daily newspaper. We agitate ourselves amazingly about a multitude of + affairs,—the politics of Europe, the state of the weather all around + the globe, the marriages and festivities of very rich people, and the + latest novelties in crime, none of which are of vital interest to us. The + more earnest souls among us are cultivating a vicious tendency to Summer + Schools, and Seaside Institutes of Philosophy, and Mountaintop Seminaries + of Modern Languages. + </p> + <p> + We toil assiduously to cram something more into those scrap-bags of + knowledge which we fondly call our minds. Seldom do we rest tranquil long + enough to find out whether there is anything in them already that is of + real value,—any native feeling, any original thought, which would + like to come out and sun itself for a while in quiet. + </p> + <p> + For my part, I am sure that I stand more in need of a deeper sense of + contentment with life than of a knowledge of the Bulgarian tongue, and + that all the paradoxes of Hegel would not do me so much good as one hour + of vital sympathy with the careless play of children. The Marquis du Paty + de l'Huitre may espouse the daughter and heiress of the Honourable James + Bulger with all imaginable pomp, if he will. CA NE M'INTRIGUE POINT DU + TOUT. I would rather stretch myself out on the grass and watch yonder pair + of kingbirds carrying luscious flies to their young ones in the nest, or + chasing away the marauding crow with shrill cries of anger. + </p> + <p> + What a pretty battle it is, and in a good cause, too! Waste no pity on + that big black ruffian. He is a villain and a thief, an egg-stealer, an + ogre, a devourer of unfledged innocents. The kingbirds are not afraid of + him, knowing that he is a coward at heart. They fly upon him, now from + below, now from above. They buffet him from one side and from the other. + They circle round him like a pair of swift gunboats round an antiquated + man-of-war. They even perch upon his back and dash their beaks into his + neck and pluck feathers from his piratical plumage. At last his lumbering + flight has carried him far enough away, and the brave little defenders fly + back to the nest, poising above it on quivering wings for a moment, then + dipping down swiftly in pursuit of some passing insect. The war is over. + Courage has had its turn. Now tenderness comes into play. The young birds, + all ignorant of the passing danger, but always conscious of an insatiable + hunger, are uttering loud remonstrances and plaintive demands for food. + Domestic life begins again, and they that sow not, neither gather into + barns, are fed. + </p> + <p> + Do you suppose that this wondrous stage of earth was set, and all the + myriad actors on it taught to play their parts, without a spectator in + view? Do you think that there is anything better for you and me to do, now + and then, than to sit down quietly in a humble seat, and watch a few + scenes in the drama? Has it not something to say to us, and do we not + understand it best when we have a peaceful heart and free from dolor? That + is what IN-DOLENCE means, and there are no better teachers of it then the + light-hearted birds and untoiling flowers, commended by the wisest of all + masters to our consideration; nor can we find a more pleasant pedagogue to + lead us to their school than a small, merry brook. + </p> + <p> + And this was what our chosen stream did for us. It was always luring us + away from an artificial life into restful companionship with nature. + </p> + <p> + Suppose, for example, we found ourselves growing a bit dissatisfied with + the domestic arrangements of our little cottage, and coveting the + splendours of a grander establishment. An afternoon on the brook was a + good cure for that folly. Or suppose a day came when there was an imminent + prospect of many formal calls. We had an important engagement up the + brook; and while we kept it we could think with satisfaction of the joy of + our callers when they discovered that they could discharge their whole + duty with a piece of pasteboard. This was an altruistic pleasure. Or + suppose that a few friends were coming to supper, and there were no + flowers for the supper-table. We could easily have bought them in the + village. But it was far more to our liking to take the children up the + brook, and come back with great bunches of wild white honeysuckle and blue + flag, or posies of arrowheads and cardinal-flowers. Or suppose that I was + very unwisely and reluctantly labouring at some serious piece of literary + work, promised for the next number of THE SCRIBBLER'S REVIEW; and suppose + that in the midst of this labour the sad news came to me that the + fisherman had forgotten to leave any fish at our cottage that morning. + Should my innocent babes and my devoted wife be left to perish of + starvation while I continued my poetical comparison of the two Williams, + Shakspeare and Watson? Inhuman selfishness! Of course it was my plain duty + to sacrifice my inclinations, and get my fly-rod, and row away across the + bay, with a deceptive appearance of cheerfulness, to catch a basket of + trout in— + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. THE SECRETS OF INTIMACY + </h2> + <p> + THERE! I came within eight letters of telling the name of the brook, a + thing that I am firmly resolved not to do. If it were an ordinary fishless + little river, or even a stream with nothing better than grass-pike and + sunfish in it, you should have the name and welcome. But when a brook + contains speckled trout, and when their presence is known to a very few + persons who guard the secret as the dragon guarded the golden apples of + the Hesperides, and when the size of the trout is large beyond the dreams + of hope,—well, when did you know a true angler who would willingly + give away the name of such a brook as that? You may find an encourager of + indolence in almost any stream of the South Side, and I wish you joy of + your brook. But if you want to catch trout in mine you must discover it + for yourself, or perhaps go with me some day, and solemnly swear secrecy. + </p> + <p> + That was the way in which the freedom of the stream was conferred upon me. + There was a small boy in the village, the son of rich but respectable + parents, and an inveterate all-round sportsman, aged fourteen years, with + whom I had formed a close intimacy. I was telling him about the pleasure + of exploring the idle brook, and expressing the opinion that in bygone + days, (in that mythical "forty years ago" when all fishing was good), + there must have been trout in it. A certain look came over the boy's face. + He gazed at me solemnly, as if he were searching the inmost depths of my + character before he spoke. + </p> + <p> + "Say, do you want to know something?" + </p> + <p> + I assured him that an increase of knowledge was the chief aim of my life. + </p> + <p> + "Do you promise you won't tell?" + </p> + <p> + I expressed my readiness to be bound to silence by the most awful pledge + that the law would sanction. + </p> + <p> + "Wish you may die?" + </p> + <p> + I not only wished that I might die, but was perfectly certain that I would + die. + </p> + <p> + "Well, what's the matter with catching trout in that brook now? Do you + want to go with me next Saturday? I saw four or five bully ones last week, + and got three." + </p> + <p> + On the appointed day we made the voyage, landed at the upper bridge, + walked around by the woodpath to the railroad embankment, and began to + worm our way down through the tangled wilderness. Fly-fishing, of course, + was out of the question. The only possible method of angling was to let + the line, baited with a juicy "garden hackle," drift down the current as + far as possible before you, under the alder-branches and the cat-briers, + into the holes and corners of the stream. Then, if there came a gentle tug + on the rod, you must strike, to one side or the other, as the branches + might allow, and trust wholly to luck for a chance to play the fish. Many + a trout we lost that day,—the largest ones, of course,—and + many a hook was embedded in a sunken log, or hopelessly entwined among the + boughs overhead. But when we came out at the bridge, very wet and + disheveled, we had seven pretty fish, the heaviest about half a pound. The + Fairy Dell yielded a brace of smaller ones, and altogether we were + reasonably happy as we took up the oars and pushed out upon the open + stream. + </p> + <p> + But if there were fish above, why should there not be fish below? It was + about sunset, the angler's golden hour. We were already committed to the + crime of being late for supper. It would add little to our guilt and much + to our pleasure to drift slowly down the middle of the brook and cast the + artful fly in the deeper corners on either shore. So I took off the vulgar + bait-hook and put on a delicate leader with a Queen of the Water for a + tail-fly and a Yellow Sally for a dropper,—innocent little + confections of feathers and tinsel, dressed on the tiniest hooks, and + calculated to tempt the appetite or the curiosity of the most capricious + trout. + </p> + <p> + For a long time the whipping of the water produced no result, and it + seemed as if the dainty style of angling were destined to prove less + profitable than plain fishing with a worm. But presently we came to an + elbow of the brook, just above the estuary, where there was quite a + stretch of clear water along the lower side, with two half-sunken logs + sticking out from the bank, against which the current had drifted a broad + raft of weeds. I made a long cast, and sent the tail-fly close to the edge + of the weeds. There was a swelling ripple on the surface of the water, and + a noble fish darted from under the logs, dashed at the fly, missed it, and + whirled back to his shelter. + </p> + <p> + "Gee!" said the boy, "that was a whacker! He made a wake like a + steamboat." + </p> + <p> + It was a moment for serious thought. What was best to be done with that + fish? Leave him to settle down for the night and come back after him + another day? Or try another cast for him at once? A fish on Saturday + evening is worth two on Monday morning. I changed the Queen of the Water + for a Royal Coachman tied on a number fourteen hook,—white wings, + peacock body with a belt of crimson silk,—and sent it out again, a + foot farther up the stream and a shade closer to the weeds. As it settled + on the water, there was a flash of gold from the shadow beneath the logs, + and a quick turn of the wrist made the tiny hook fast in the fish. He + fought wildly to get back to the shelter of his logs, but the four ounce + rod had spring enough in it to hold him firmly away from that dangerous + retreat. Then he splurged up and down the open water, and made fierce + dashes among the grassy shallows, and seemed about to escape a dozen + times. But at last his force was played out; he came slowly towards the + boat, turning on his side, and I netted him in my hat. + </p> + <p> + "Bully for us;" said the boy, "we got him! What a dandy!" + </p> + <p> + It was indeed one of the handsomest fish that I have ever taken on the + South Side,—just short of two pounds and a quarter,—small + head, broad tail, and well-rounded sides coloured with orange and blue and + gold and red. A pair of the same kind, one weighing two pounds and the + other a pound and three quarters, were taken by careful fishing down the + lower end of the pool, and then we rowed home through the dusk, pleasantly + convinced that there is no virtue more certainly rewarded than the + patience of anglers, and entirely willing to put up with a cold supper and + a mild reproof for the sake of sport. + </p> + <p> + Of course we could not resist the temptation to show those fish to the + neighbours. But, equally of course, we evaded the request to give precise + information as to the precise place where they were caught. Indeed, I fear + that there must have been something confused in our description of where + we had been on that afternoon. Our carefully selected language may have + been open to misunderstanding. At all events, the next day, which was the + Sabbath, there was a row of eager but unprincipled anglers sitting on a + bridge OVER ANOTHER STREAM, and fishing for trout with worms and large + expectations, but without visible results. + </p> + <p> + The boy and I agreed that if this did not teach a good moral lesson it was + not our fault. + </p> + <p> + I obtained the boy's consent to admit the partner of my life's joys and + two of our children to the secret of the brook, and thereafter, when we + visited it, we took the fly-rod with us. If by chance another boat passed + us in the estuary, we were never fishing, but only gathering flowers, or + going for a picnic, or taking photographs. But when the uninitiated ones + had passed by, we would get out the rod again, and try a few more casts. + </p> + <p> + One day in particular I remember, when Graygown and little Teddy were my + companions. We really had no hopes of angling, for the hour was mid-noon, + and the day was warm and still. But suddenly the trout, by one of those + unaccountable freaks which make their disposition so interesting and + attractive, began to rise all about us in a bend of the stream. + </p> + <p> + "Look!" said Teddy; "wherever you see one of those big smiles on the + water, I believe there's a fish!" + </p> + <p> + Fortunately the rod was at hand. Graygown and Teddy managed the boat and + the landing-net with consummate skill. We landed no less than a dozen + beautiful fish at that most unlikely hour and then solemnly shook hands + all around. + </p> + <p> + There is a peculiar pleasure in doing a thing like this, catching trout in + a place where nobody thinks of looking for them, and at an hour when + everybody believes they cannot be caught. It is more fun to take one good + fish out of an old, fished-out stream, near at hand to the village, than + to fill a basket from some far-famed and well-stocked water. It is the + unexpected touch that tickles our sense of pleasure. While life lasts, we + are always hoping for it and expecting it. There is no country so + civilized, no existence so humdrum, that there is not room enough in it + somewhere for a lazy, idle brook, an encourager of indolence, with hope of + happy surprises. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OPEN FIRE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "It is a vulgar notion that a fire is only for heat. A + chief value of it is, however, to look at. And it is never + twice the same." + + —CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER: Backlog Studies. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. LIGHTING UP + </h2> + <p> + Man is the animal that has made friends with the fire. + </p> + <p> + All the other creatures, in their natural state, are afraid of it. They + look upon it with wonder and dismay. It fascinates them, sometimes, with + its glittering eyes in the night. The squirrels and the hares come + pattering softly towards it through the underbrush around the new camp. + The fascinated deer stares into the blaze of the jack-light while the + hunter's canoe creeps through the lily-pads. But the charm that masters + them is one of dread, not of love. It is the witchcraft of the serpent's + lambent look. When they know what it means, when the heat of the fire + touches them, or even when its smell comes clearly to their most delicate + sense, they recognize it as their enemy, the Wild Huntsman whose red + hounds can follow, follow for days without wearying, growing stronger and + more furious with every turn of the chase. Let but a trail of smoke drift + down the wind across the forest, and all the game for miles and miles will + catch the signal for fear and flight. + </p> + <p> + Many of the animals have learned how to make houses for themselves. The + CABANE of the beaver is a wonder of neatness and comfort, much preferable + to the wigwam of his Indian hunter. The muskrat knows how thick and high + to build the dome of his waterside cottage, in order to protect himself + against the frost of the coming winter and the floods of the following + spring. The woodchuck's house has two or three doors; and the squirrel's + dwelling is provided with a good bed and a convenient storehouse for nuts + and acorns. The sportive otters have a toboggan slide in front of their + residence; and the moose in winter make a "yard," where they can take + exercise comfortably and find shelter for sleep. But there is one thing + lacking in all these various dwellings,—a fireplace. + </p> + <p> + Man is the only creature that dares to light a fire and to live with it. + The reason? Because he alone has learned how to put it out. + </p> + <p> + It is true that two of his humbler friends have been converted to + fire-worship. The dog and the cat, being half-humanized, have begun to + love the fire. I suppose that a cat seldom comes so near to feeling a true + sense of affection as when she has finished her saucer of bread and milk, + and stretched herself luxuriously underneath the kitchen stove, while her + faithful mistress washes up the dishes. As for a dog, I am sure that his + admiring love for his master is never greater than when they come in + together from the hunt, wet and tired, and the man gathers a pile of wood + in front of the tent, touches it with a tiny magic wand, and suddenly the + clear, consoling flame springs up, saying cheerfully, "Here we are, at + home in the forest; come into the warmth; rest, and eat, and sleep." When + the weary, shivering dog sees this miracle, he knows that his master is a + great man and a lord of things. + </p> + <p> + After all, that is the only real open fire. Wood is the fuel for it. + Out-of-doors is the place for it. A furnace is an underground prison for a + toiling slave. A stove is a cage for a tame bird. Even a broad hearthstone + and a pair of glittering andirons—the best ornament of a room—must + be accepted as an imitation of the real thing. The veritable open fire is + built in the open, with the whole earth for a fireplace and the sky for a + chimney. + </p> + <p> + To start a fire in the open is by no means as easy as it looks. It is one + of those simple tricks that every one thinks he can perform until he tries + it. + </p> + <p> + To do it without trying,—accidentally and unwillingly,—that, + of course, is a thing for which any fool is fit. You knock out the ashes + from your pipe on a fallen log; you toss the end of a match into a patch + of grass, green on top, but dry as punk underneath; you scatter the dead + brands of an old fire among the moss,—a conflagration is under way + before you know it. + </p> + <p> + A fire in the woods is one thing; a comfort and a joy. Fire in the woods + is another thing; a terror, an uncontrollable fury, a burning shame. + </p> + <p> + But the lighting up of a proper fire, kindly, approachable, serviceable, + docile, is a work of intelligence. If, perhaps, you have to do it in the + rain, with a single match, it requires no little art and skill. + </p> + <p> + There is plenty of wood everywhere, but not a bit to burn. The fallen + trees are waterlogged. The dead leaves are as damp as grief. The charred + sticks that you find in an old fireplace are absolutely incombustible. Do + not trust the handful of withered twigs and branches that you gather from + the spruce-trees. They seem dry, but they are little better for your + purpose than so much asbestos. You make a pile of them in some apparently + suitable hollow, and lay a few larger sticks on top. Then you hastily + scratch your solitary match on the seat of your trousers and thrust it + into the pile of twigs. What happens? The wind whirls around in your + stupid little hollow, and the blue flame of the sulphur spirts and + sputters for an instant, and then goes out. Or perhaps there is a moment + of stillness; the match flares up bravely; the nearest twigs catch fire, + crackling and sparkling; you hurriedly lay on more sticks; but the fire + deliberately dodges them, creeps to the corner of the pile where the twigs + are fewest and dampest, snaps feebly a few times, and expires in smoke. + Now where are you? How far is it to the nearest match? + </p> + <p> + If you are wise, you will always make your fire before you light it. Time + is never saved by doing a thing badly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE CAMP-FIRE + </h2> + <p> + In the making of fires there is as much difference as in the building of + houses. Everything depends upon the purpose that you have in view. There + is the camp-fire, and the cooking-fire, and the smudge-fire, and the + little friendship-fire,—not to speak of other minor varieties. Each + of these has its own proper style of architecture, and to mix them is + false art and poor economy. + </p> + <p> + The object of the camp-fire is to give heat, and incidentally light, to + your tent or shanty. You can hardly build this kind of a fire unless you + have a good axe and know how to chop. For the first thing that you need is + a solid backlog, the thicker the better, to hold the heat and reflect it + into the tent. This log must not be too dry, or it will burn out quickly. + Neither must it be too damp, else it will smoulder and discourage the + fire. The best wood for it is the body of a yellow birch, and, next to + that, a green balsam. It should be five or six feet long, and at least two + and a half feet in diameter. If you cannot find a tree thick enough, cut + two or three lengths of a smaller one; lay the thickest log on the ground + first, about ten or twelve feet in front of the tent; drive two strong + stakes behind it, slanting a little backward; and lay the other logs on + top of the first, resting against the stakes. + </p> + <p> + Now you are ready for the hand-chunks, or andirons. These are shorter + sticks of wood, eight or ten inches thick, laid at right angles to the + backlog, four or five feet apart. Across these you are to build up the + firewood proper. + </p> + <p> + Use a dry spruce-tree, not one that has fallen, but one that is dead and + still standing, if you want a lively, snapping fire. Use a hard maple or a + hickory if you want a fire that will burn steadily and make few sparks. + But if you like a fire to blaze up at first with a splendid flame, and + then burn on with an enduring heat far into the night, a young white birch + with the bark on is the tree to choose. Six or eight round sticks of this + laid across the hand-chunks, with perhaps a few quarterings of a larger + tree, will make a glorious fire. + </p> + <p> + But before you put these on, you must be ready to light up. A few + splinters of dry spruce or pine or balsam, stood endwise against the + backlog, or, better still, piled up in a pyramid between the hand-chunks; + a few strips of birch-bark; and one good match,—these are all that + you want. But be sure that your match is a good one. It is better to see + to this before you go into the brush. Your comfort, even your life, may + depend on it. + </p> + <p> + "AVEC CES ALLUMETTES-LA," said my guide at LAC ST. JEAN one day, as he + vainly tried to light his pipe with a box of parlour matches from the + hotel,—AVEC CES GNOGNOTTES D'ALLUMETTES ON POURRA MOURIR AU BOIS!" + </p> + <p> + In the woods, the old-fashioned brimstone match of our grandfathers—the + match with a brown head and a stout stick and a dreadful smell—is + the best. But if you have only one, do not trust even that to light your + fire directly. Use it first to touch off a roll of birch-bark which you + hold in your hand. Then, when the bark is well alight, crinkling and + curling, push it under the heap of kindlings, give the flame time to take + a good hold, and lay your wood over it, a stick at a time, until the whole + pile is blazing. Now your fire is started. Your friendly little red-haired + gnome is ready to serve you through the night. + </p> + <p> + He will dry your clothes if you are wet. He will cheer you up if you are + despondent. He will diffuse an air of sociability through the camp, and + draw the men together in a half circle for storytelling and jokes and + singing. He will hold a flambeau for you while you spread your blankets on + the boughs and dress for bed. He will keep you warm while you sleep,—at + least till about three o'clock in the morning, when you dream that you are + out sleighing in your pajamas, and wake up with a shiver. + </p> + <p> + "HOLA, FERDINAND, FRANCOIS!" you call out from your bed, pulling the + blankets over your ears; "RAMANCHEZ LE FEU, S'IL VOUS PLAIT. C'EST UN + FREITE DE CHIEN." + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. THE COOKING-FIRE + </h2> + <p> + Of course such a fire as I have been describing can be used for cooking, + when it has burned down a little, and there is a bed of hot embers in + front of the backlog. But a correct kitchen fire should be constructed + after another fashion. What you want now is not blaze, but heat, and that + not diffused, but concentrated. You must be able to get close to your fire + without burning your boots or scorching your face. + </p> + <p> + If you have time and the material, make a fireplace of big stones. But not + of granite, for that will split with the heat, and perhaps fly in your + face. + </p> + <p> + If you are in a hurry and there are no suitable stones at hand, lay two + good logs nearly parallel with each other, a foot or so apart, and build + your fire between them. For a cooking-fire, use split wood in short + sticks. Let the first supply burn to glowing coals before you begin. A + frying-pan that is lukewarm one minute and red-hot the next is the + abomination of desolation. If you want black toast, have it made before a + fresh, sputtering, blazing heap of wood. + </p> + <p> + In fires, as in men, an excess of energy is a lack of usefulness. The best + work is done without many sparks. Just enough is the right kind of a fire + and a feast. + </p> + <p> + To know how to cook is not a very elegant accomplishment. Yet there are + times and seasons when it seems to come in better than familiarity with + the dead languages, or much skill upon the lute. + </p> + <p> + You cannot always rely on your guides for a tasteful preparation of food. + Many of them are ignorant of the difference between frying and broiling, + and their notion of boiling a potato or a fish is to reduce it to a pulp. + Now and then you find a man who has a natural inclination to the culinary + art, and who does very well within familiar limits. + </p> + <p> + Old Edouard, the Montaignais Indian who cooked for my friends H. E. G. and + C. S. D. last summer on the STE. MARGUERITE EN BAS, was such a man. But + Edouard could not read, and the only way he could tell the nature of the + canned provisions was by the pictures on the cans. If the picture was + strange to him, there was no guessing what he would do with the contents + of the can. He was capable of roasting strawberries, and serving green + peas cold for dessert. One day a can of mullagatawny soup and a can of + apricots were handed out to him simultaneously and without explanations. + Edouard solved the problem by opening both cans and cooking them together. + We had a new soup that day, MULLAGATAWNY AUX APRICOTS. It was not as bad + as it sounds. It tasted somewhat like chutney. + </p> + <p> + The real reason why food that is cooked over an open fire tastes so good + to us is because we are really hungry when we get it. The man who puts up + provisions for camp has a great advantage over the dealers who must + satisfy the pampered appetite of people in houses. I never can get any + bacon in New York like that which I buy at a little shop in Quebec to take + into the woods. If I ever set up in the grocery business, I shall try to + get a good trade among anglers. It will be easy to please my customers. + </p> + <p> + The reputation that trout enjoy as a food-fish is partly due to the fact + that they are usually cooked over an open fire. In the city they never + taste as good. It is not merely a difference in freshness. It is a change + in the sauce. If the truth must be told, even by an angler, there are at + least five salt-water fish which are better than trout,—to eat. + There is none better to catch. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. THE SMUDGE-FIRE + </h2> + <p> + But enough of the cooking-fire. Let us turn now to the subject of the + smudge, known in Lower Canada as LA BOUCANE. The smudge owes its existence + to the pungent mosquito, the sanguinary black-fly, and the peppery midge,—LE + MARINGOUIN, LA MOUSTIQUE, ET LE BRULOT. To what it owes its English name I + do not know; but its French name means simply a thick, nauseating, + intolerable smoke. + </p> + <p> + The smudge is called into being for the express purpose of creating a + smoke of this kind, which is as disagreeable to the mosquito, the + black-fly, and the midge as it is to the man whom they are devouring. But + the man survives the smoke, while the insects succumb to it, being + destroyed or driven away. Therefore the smudge, dark and bitter in itself, + frequently becomes, like adversity, sweet in its uses. It must be regarded + as a form of fire with which man has made friends under the pressure of a + cruel necessity. + </p> + <p> + It would seem as if it ought to be the simplest affair in the world to + light up a smudge. And so it is—if you are not trying. + </p> + <p> + An attempt to produce almost any other kind of a fire will bring forth + smoke abundantly. But when you deliberately undertake to create a smudge, + flames break from the wettest timber, and green moss blazes with a furious + heat. You hastily gather handfuls of seemingly incombustible material and + throw it on the fire, but the conflagration increases. Grass and green + leaves hesitate for an instant and then flash up like tinder. The more you + put on, the more your smudge rebels against its proper task of smudging. + It makes a pleasant warmth, to encourage the black-flies; and bright light + to attract and cheer the mosquitoes. Your effort is a brilliant failure. + </p> + <p> + The proper way to make a smudge is this. Begin with a very little, lowly + fire. Let it be bright, but not ambitious. Don't try to make a smoke yet. + </p> + <p> + Then gather a good supply of stuff which seems likely to suppress fire + without smothering it. Moss of a certain kind will do, but not the soft, + feathery moss that grows so deep among the spruce-trees. Half-decayed wood + is good; spongy, moist, unpleasant stuff, a vegetable wet blanket. The + bark of dead evergreen trees, hemlock, spruce, or balsam, is better still. + Gather a plentiful store of it. But don't try to make a smoke yet. + </p> + <p> + Let your fire burn a while longer; cheer it up a little. Get some clear, + resolute, unquenchable coals aglow in the heart of it. Don't try to make a + smoke yet. + </p> + <p> + Now pile on your smouldering fuel. Fan it with your hat. Kneel down and + blow it, and in ten minutes you will have a smoke that will make you wish + you had never been born. + </p> + <p> + That is the proper way to make a smudge. But the easiest way is to ask + your guide to make it for you. + </p> + <p> + If he makes it in an old iron pot, so much the better, for then you can + move it around to the windward when the breeze veers, and carry it into + your tent without risk of setting everything on fire, and even take it + with you in the canoe while you are fishing. + </p> + <p> + Some of the pleasantest pictures in the angler's gallery of remembrance + are framed in the smoke that rises from a smudge. + </p> + <p> + With my eyes shut, I can call up a vision of eight birch-bark canoes + floating side by side on Moosehead Lake, on a fair June morning, fifteen + years ago. They are anchored off Green Island, riding easily on the long, + gentle waves. In the stern of each canoe there is a guide with a + long-handled net; in the bow, an angler with a light fly-rod; in the + middle, a smudge-kettle, smoking steadily. In the air to the windward of + the little fleet hovers a swarm of flies drifting down on the shore + breeze, with bloody purpose in their breasts, but baffled by the + protecting smoke. In the water to the leeward plays a school of speckled + trout, feeding on the minnows that hang around the sunken ledges of rock. + As a larger wave than usual passes over the ledges, it lifts the fish up, + and you can see the big fellows, three, and four, and even five pounds + apiece, poising themselves in the clear brown water. A long cast will send + the fly over one of them. Let it sink a foot. Draw it up with a fluttering + motion. Now the fish sees it, and turns to catch it. There is a yellow + gleam in the depth, a sudden swirl on the surface; you strike sharply, and + the trout is matching his strength against the spring of your four ounces + of split bamboo. + </p> + <p> + You can guess at his size, as he breaks water, by the breadth of his tail: + a pound of weight to an inch of tail,—that is the traditional + measure, and it usually comes pretty close to the mark, at least in the + case of large fish. But it is never safe to record the weight until the + trout is in the canoe. As the Canadian hunters say, "Sell not the skin of + the bear while he carries it." + </p> + <p> + Now the breeze that blows over Green Island drops away, and the smoke of + the eight smudge-kettles falls like a thick curtain. The canoes, the dark + shores of Norcross Point, the twin peaks of Spencer Mountain, the dim blue + summit of Katahdin, the dazzling sapphire sky, the flocks of fleece-white + clouds shepherded on high by the western wind, all have vanished. With + closed eyes I see another vision, still framed in smoke,—a vision of + yesterday. + </p> + <p> + It is a wild river flowing into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, on the COTE + NORD, far down towards Labrador. There is a long, narrow, swift pool + between two parallel ridges of rock. Over the ridge on the right pours a + cataract of pale yellow foam. At the bottom of the pool, the water slides + down into a furious rapid, and dashes straight through an impassable gorge + half a mile to the sea. The pool is full of salmon, leaping merrily in + their delight at coming into their native stream. The air is full of + black-flies, rejoicing in the warmth of the July sun. On a slippery point + of rock, below the fall, are two anglers, tempting the fish and enduring + the flies. Behind them is an old HABITANT raising a mighty column of + smoke. + </p> + <p> + Through the cloudy pillar which keeps back the Egyptian host, you see the + waving of a long rod. A silver-gray fly with a barbed tail darts out + across the pool, swings around with the current, well under water, and + slowly works past the big rock in the centre, just at the head of the + rapid. Almost past it, but not quite: for suddenly the fly disappears; the + line begins to run out; the reel sings sharp and shrill; a salmon is + hooked. + </p> + <p> + But how well is he hooked? That is the question. This is no easy pool to + play a fish in. There is no chance to jump into a canoe and drop below + him, and get the current to help you in drowning him. You cannot follow + him along the shore. You cannot even lead him into quiet water, where the + gaffer can creep near to him unseen and drag him in with a quick stroke. + You must fight your fish to a finish, and all the advantages are on his + side. The current is terribly strong. If he makes up his mind to go + downstream to the sea, the only thing you can do is to hold him by main + force; and then it is ten to one that the hook tears out or the leader + breaks. + </p> + <p> + It is not in human nature for one man to watch another handling a fish in + such a place without giving advice. "Keep the tip of your rod up. Don't + let your reel overrun. Stir him up a little, he 's sulking. Don't let him + 'jig,' or you'll lose him. You 're playing him too hard. There, he 's + going to jump again. Drop your tip. Stop him, quick! he 's going down the + rapid!" + </p> + <p> + Of course the man who is playing the salmon does not like this. If he is + quick-tempered, sooner or later he tells his counsellor to shut up. But if + he is a gentle, early-Christian kind of a man, wise as a serpent and + harmless as a dove, he follows the advice that is given to him, promptly + and exactly. Then, when it is all ended, and he has seen the big fish, + with the line over his shoulder, poised for an instant on the crest of the + first billow of the rapid, and has felt the leader stretch and give and + SNAP!—then he can have the satisfaction, while he reels in his slack + line, of saying to his friend, "Well, old man, I did everything just as + you told me. But I think if I had pushed that fish a little harder at the + beginning, AS I WANTED TO, I might have saved him." + </p> + <p> + But really, of course, the chances were all against it. In such a pool, + most of the larger fish get away. Their weight gives them a tremendous + pull. The fish that are stopped from going into the rapid, and dragged + back from the curling wave, are usually the smaller ones. Here they are,—twelve + pounds, eight pounds, six pounds, five pounds and a half, FOUR POUNDS! Is + not this the smallest salmon that you ever saw? Not a grilse, you + understand, but a real salmon, of brightest silver, hall-marked with St. + Andrew's cross. + </p> + <p> + Now let us sit down for a moment and watch the fish trying to leap up the + falls. There is a clear jump of about ten feet, and above that an + apparently impossible climb of ten feet more up a ladder of twisting foam. + A salmon darts from the boiling water at the bottom of the fall like an + arrow from a bow. He rises in a beautiful curve, fins laid close to his + body and tail quivering; but he has miscalculated his distance. He is on + the downward curve when the water strikes him and tumbles him back. A bold + little fish, not more than eighteen inches long, makes a jump at the side + of the fall, where the water is thin, and is rolled over and over in the + spray. A larger salmon rises close beside us with a tremendous rush, bumps + his nose against a jutting rock, and flops back into the pool. Now comes a + fish who has made his calculations exactly. He leaves the pool about eight + feet from the foot of the fall, rises swiftly, spreads his fins, and + curves his tail as if he were flying, strikes the water where it is + thickest just below the brink, holds on desperately, and drives himself, + with one last wriggle, through the bending stream, over the edge, and up + the first step of the foaming stairway. He has obeyed the strongest + instinct of his nature, and gone up to make love in the highest fresh + water that he can reach. + </p> + <p> + The smoke of the smudge-fire is sharp and tearful, but a man can learn to + endure a good deal of it when he can look through its rings at such scenes + as these. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. THE LITTLE FRIENDSHIP-FIRE + </h2> + <p> + There are times and seasons when the angler has no need of any of the + three fires of which we have been talking. He sleeps in a house. His + breakfast and dinner are cooked for him in a kitchen. He is in no great + danger from black-flies or mosquitoes. All he needs now, as he sets out to + spend a day on the Neversink, or the Willowemoc, or the Shepaug, or the + Swiftwater, is a good lunch in his pocket, and a little friendship-fire to + burn pleasantly beside him while he eats his frugal fare and prolongs his + noonday rest. + </p> + <p> + This form of fire does less work than any other in the world. Yet it is + far from being useless; and I, for one, should be sorry to live without + it. Its only use is to make a visible centre of interest where there are + two or three anglers eating their lunch together, or to supply a kind of + companionship to a lone fisherman. It is kindled and burns for no other + purpose than to give you the sense of being at home and at ease. Why the + fire should do this, I cannot tell, but it does. + </p> + <p> + You may build your friendship-fire in almost any way that pleases you; but + this is the way in which you shall build it best. You have no axe, of + course, so you must look about for the driest sticks that you can find. Do + not seek them close beside the stream, for there they are likely to be + water-soaked; but go back into the woods a bit and gather a good armful of + fuel. Then break it, if you can, into lengths of about two feet, and + construct your fire in the following fashion. + </p> + <p> + Lay two sticks parallel, and put between them a pile of dried grass, dead + leaves, small twigs, and the paper in which your lunch was wrapped. Then + lay two other sticks crosswise on top of your first pair. Strike your + match and touch your kindlings. As the fire catches, lay on other pairs of + sticks, each pair crosswise to the pair that is below it, until you have a + pyramid of flame. This is "a Micmac fire" such as the Indians make in the + woods. + </p> + <p> + Now you can pull off your wading-boots and warm your feet at the blaze. + You can toast your bread if you like. You can even make shift to broil one + of your trout, fastened on the end of a birch twig if you have a fancy + that way. When your hunger is satisfied, you shake out the crumbs for the + birds and the squirrels, pick up a stick with a coal at the end to light + your pipe, put some more wood on your fire, and settle down for an hour's + reading if you have a book in your pocket, or for a good talk if you have + a comrade with you. + </p> + <p> + The stream of time flows swift and smooth, by such a fire as this. The + moments slip past unheeded; the sun sinks down his western arch; the + shadows begin to fall across the brook; it is time to move on for the + afternoon fishing. The fire has almost burned out. But do not trust it too + much. Throw some sand over it, or bring a hatful of water from the brook + to pour on it, until you are sure that the last glowing ember is + extinguished, and nothing but the black coals and the charred ends of the + sticks are left. + </p> + <p> + Even the little friendship-fire must keep the law of the bush. All lights + out when their purpose is fulfilled! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. ALTARS OF REMEMBRANCE + </h2> + <p> + It is a question that we have often debated, in the informal meetings of + our Petrine Club: Which is pleasanter,—to fish an old stream, or a + new one? + </p> + <p> + The younger members are all for the "fresh woods and pastures new." They + speak of the delight of turning off from the high-road into some + faintly-marked trail; following it blindly through the forest, not knowing + how far you have to go; hearing the voice of waters sounding through the + woodland; leaving the path impatiently and striking straight across the + underbrush; scrambling down a steep bank, pushing through a thicket of + alders, and coming out suddenly, face to face with a beautiful, strange + brook. It reminds you, of course, of some old friend. It is a little like + the Beaverkill, or the Ausable, or the Gale River. And yet it is + different. Every stream has its own character and disposition. Your new + acquaintance invites you to a day of discoveries. If the water is high, + you will follow it down, and have easy fishing. If the water is low, you + will go upstream, and fish "fine and far-off." Every turn in the avenue + which the little river has made for you opens up a new view,—a rocky + gorge where the deep pools are divided by white-footed falls; a lofty + forest where the shadows are deep and the trees arch overhead; a flat, + sunny stretch where the stream is spread out, and pebbly islands divide + the channels, and the big fish are lurking at the sides in the sheltered + corners under the bushes. From scene to scene you follow on, delighted and + expectant, until the night suddenly drops its veil, and then you will be + lucky if you can find your way home in the dark! + </p> + <p> + Yes, it is all very good, this exploration of new streams. But, for my + part, I like still better to go back to a familiar little river, and fish + or dream along the banks where I have dreamed and fished before. I know + every bend and curve: the sharp turn where the water runs under the roots + of the old hemlock-tree; the snaky glen, where the alders stretch their + arms far out across the stream; the meadow reach, where the trout are fat + and silvery, and will only rise about sunrise or sundown, unless the day + is cloudy; the Naiad's Elbow, where the brook rounds itself, smooth and + dimpled, to embrace a cluster of pink laurel-bushes. All these I know; + yes, and almost every current and eddy and backwater I know long before I + come to it. I remember where I caught the big trout the first year I came + to the stream; and where I lost a bigger one. I remember the pool where + there were plenty of good fish last year, and wonder whether they are + there now. + </p> + <p> + Better things than these I remember: the companions with whom I have + followed the stream in days long past; the rendezvous with a comrade at + the place where the rustic bridge crosses the brook; the hours of sweet + converse beside the friendship-fire; the meeting at twilight with my lady + Graygown and the children, who have come down by the wood-road to walk + home with me. + </p> + <p> + Surely it is pleasant to follow an old stream. Flowers grow along its + banks which are not to be found anywhere else in the wide world. "There is + rosemary, that 's for remembrance; and there is pansies, that 's for + thoughts!" + </p> + <p> + One May evening, a couple of years since, I was angling in the Swiftwater, + and came upon Joseph Jefferson, stretched out on a large rock in + midstream, and casting the fly down a long pool. He had passed the + threescore years and ten, but he was as eager and as happy as a boy in his + fishing. + </p> + <p> + "You here!" I cried. "What good fortune brought you into these waters?" + </p> + <p> + "Ah," he answered, "I fished this brook forty-five years ago. It was in + the Paradise Valley that I first thought of Rip Van Winkle. I wanted to + come back again for the sake of old times." + </p> + <p> + But what has all this to do with an open fire? I will tell you. It is at + the places along the stream, where the little flames of love and + friendship have been kindled in bygone days, that the past returns most + vividly. These are the altars of remembrance. + </p> + <p> + It is strange how long a small fire will leave its mark. The charred + sticks, the black coals, do not decay easily. If they lie well up the + hank, out of reach of the spring floods, they will stay there for years. + If you have chanced to build a rough fireplace of stones from the brook, + it seems almost as if it would last forever. + </p> + <p> + There is a mossy knoll beneath a great butternut-tree on the Swiftwater + where such a fireplace was built four years ago; and whenever I come to + that place now I lay the rod aside, and sit down for a little while by the + fast-flowing water, and remember. + </p> + <p> + This is what I see: A man wading up the stream, with a creel over his + shoulder, and perhaps a dozen trout in it; two little lads in gray + corduroys running down the path through the woods to meet him, one + carrying a frying-pan and a kettle, the other with a basket of lunch on + his arm. Then I see the bright flames leaping up in the fireplace, and + hear the trout sizzling in the pan, and smell the appetizing odour. Now I + see the lads coming back across the foot-bridge that spans the stream, + with a bottle of milk from the nearest farmhouse. They are laughing and + teetering as they balance along the single plank. Now the table is spread + on the moss. How good the lunch tastes! Never were there such pink-fleshed + trout, such crisp and savoury slices of broiled bacon. Douglas, (the + beloved doll that the younger lad shamefacedly brings out from the pocket + of his jacket,) must certainly have some of it. And after the lunch is + finished, and the bird's portion has been scattered on the moss, we creep + carefully on our hands and knees to the edge of the brook, and look over + the bank at the big trout that is poising himself in the amber water. We + have tried a dozen times to catch him, but never succeeded. The next time, + perhaps— + </p> + <p> + Well, the fireplace is still standing. The butternut-tree spreads its + broad branches above the stream. The violets and the bishop's-caps and the + wild anemones are sprinkled over the banks. The yellow-throat and the + water-thrush and the vireos still sing the same tunes in the thicket. And + the elder of the two lads often comes back with me to that pleasant place + and shares my fisherman's luck beside the Swiftwater. + </p> + <p> + But the younger lad? + </p> + <p> + Ah, my little Barney, you have gone to follow a new stream,—clear as + crystal,—flowing through fields of wonderful flowers that never + fade. It is a strange river to Teddy and me; strange and very far away. + Some day we shall see it with you; and you will teach us the names of + those blossoms that do not wither. But till then, little Barney, the other + lad and I will follow the old stream that flows by the woodland fireplace,—your + altar. + </p> + <p> + Rue grows here. Yes, there is plenty of rue. But there is also rosemary, + that 's for remembrance! And close beside it I see a little heart's-ease. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A SLUMBER SONG FOR THE FISHERMAN'S CHILD + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Furl your sail, my little boatie; + Here 's the haven, still and deep, + Where the dreaming tides, in-streaming, + Up the channel creep. + See, the sunset breeze is dying; + Hark, the plover, landward flying, + Softly down the twilight crying; + Come to anchor, little boatie, + In the port of Sleep. + + Far away, my little boatie, + Roaring waves are white with foam; + Ships are striving, onward driving, + Day and night they roam. + Father 's at the deep-sea trawling, + In the darkness, rowing, hauling, + While the hungry winds are calling,— + God protect him, little boatie, + Bring him safely home! + + Not for you, my little boatie, + Is the wide and weary sea; + You 're too slender, and too tender, + You must rest with me. + All day long you have been straying + Up and down the shore and playing; + Come to port, make no delaying! + Day is over, little boatie, + Night falls suddenly. + + Furl your sail, my little boatie; + Fold your wings, my tired dove. + Dews are sprinkling, stars are twinkling + Drowsily above. + Cease from sailing, cease from rowing; + Rock upon the dream-tide, knowing + Safely o'er your rest are glowing, + All the night, my little boatie, + Harbour-lights of love. +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fisherman's Luck, by Henry van Dyke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FISHERMAN'S LUCK *** + +***** This file should be named 1139-h.htm or 1139-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/3/1139/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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