In the Sierra 



speeches for the Union, mounted on a tall 

 stool, when he was only six years old. 



It seems strange that visitors to Yosemite 

 should be so little influenced by its novel 

 grandeur, as if their eyes were bandaged 

 and their ears stopped. Most of those I saw 

 yesterday were looking down as if wholly 

 unconscious of anything going on about 

 them, while the sublime rocks were trem- 

 bling with the tones of the mighty chanting 

 congregation of waters gathered from all 

 the mountains round about, making music 

 that might draw angels out of heaven. 

 Yet respectable-looking, even wise-looking 

 people were fixing bits of worms on bent 

 pieces of wire to catch trout. Sport they 

 called it. Should church-goers try to pass 

 the time fishing in baptismal fonts while 

 dull sermons were being preached, the 

 so-called sport might not be so bad ; but 

 to play in the Yosemite temple, seek- 

 ing pleasure in the pain of fishes strug- 

 gling for their lives, while God himself is 



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