140 FISHING WITH THE FLY. 



are arrayed in new splendors and peopled with other 

 phantoms. 



So I have dreamed, and might go on dreaming, but this 

 time I am brought back to the green slope and a little 

 figure. The Governor is toiling up the trail with a quart 

 bucket, his special chattel, from the spring, whence he 

 volunteered to bring a drink for his mother. I can see 

 no impediment in his path, yet he stumbles and falls. 

 Would I had been there to warn him ; but the water is 

 spilled. He does not cry, but gathers himself and his 

 property up, and goes back to begin his task over again. 

 Just then there came to me pat, an aphorism, I think, 

 of " Poor Goldsmith" : "True greatness consists not 

 in never falling, but in rising every time we fall ; " and 

 I took it as an omen of good for the boy. 



The time is approaching when we must break camp 

 and go back to the brick and mortar and the realities 

 of civilization. Duties to be performed will be under- 

 taken with better zest when I get to them, but I cast 

 lingering looks toward mv mountain ruins as the day 

 of departure draws nigh. I even have a thought that 

 it would be pleasant to relapse into barbarism, if out of 

 such as mine our civilization has grown — we might 

 build up a better. As this may not be, I am encour- 

 aged by the thought that another season will come, and 

 with hope in my heart I am better prepared for the 

 work awaiting me. I know that I shall go back with 

 a fresher feeling for my kind, and more charity. So 

 when one September morning, after a day of gray mist 



