Along the Lily-Pads 



uous meanderings of such a stream; the 

 scenery constantly changing, and yet pre 

 serving a sort of panoramic unity and con 

 tinuity ; sunlight alternating with shadow on 

 the still-flowing waters; the song of some 

 hidden veery or sparrow coming to us out 

 of the cool gloom as we drift along the 

 woods; and in the broad sunlight beyond, 

 the silence of shimmering meadows and the 

 grateful touch of the breeze that brings to 

 us the fragrance of new-mown hay. 



Of such things as these, as well as the 

 thrill and stimulus of healthful sport, is 

 the angler's joy compounded. The secret 

 of it all lies in being close to nature's heart, 

 with something concrete, definite, and uni 

 versally attractive to draw one and hold one 

 there. Fishing is but half, and perhaps the 

 lesser half, of the fisherman's delight. It is 

 nature's mothering of him that makes him 

 so childlike content. He casts his hooks 

 for bass and trout and pickerel, and nature 

 slyly and lovingly fixes to them the roses of 

 the sunset, the diamonds of the morning 

 dew, the invisible fragrances of the air, the 

 sweetest sights and sounds and odors of the 

 great outdoor world all those things that 



