XXXVI 



THE TOWHEE 



THE desire to know the wildling springs as naturally in 

 a boy's heart as to breathe the fresh air or run in the 

 warm sunshine. I am sure that when as a five or six-year- 

 old boy I used to beg a pin from mother, bend it into a 

 fish hook, tie a twine string just below the head, and 

 trudge away fo Wymore's Branch to spend an afternoon 

 fishing, it was not just because I liked to catch fish. I 

 think the greatest pleasure connected with the whole oc- 

 cupation was the opportunity to get out with nature, and 

 the chance to match wits with the finny denizens of the 

 brook. In fact, I did not always try to catch these fish. 

 Many an hour I have fished with the bait fastened on the 

 string in such a way that the fish could take it readily 

 without being caught. It was great sport to dangle this 

 bait near the surface of the water and watch the different 

 ways the various kinds of minnows fed. 



There was a shady pool at the foot of the fern bluff only 

 a few rods from an old stone quarry where some skunks had 

 their den. I especially liked to fish there, not because it 

 was the best place in the creek to catch fish, but because 

 the water was clearer than anywhere else and I could see 

 more of the fishes' doings. Besides at this place it made 

 one feel glad that he was alive just to look at the flowers 

 and ferns on the bank. Since I have grown old enough 



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