CHAPTER XVIII. 



COME, LET US COMMUNE TOGETHER. 



DEAR OLD PARD The days when we touched elbows at the desk seem not long 

 ago, so swiftly do the winged years fly; yet during that fleeting interval how many 

 veterans of the old craft have gone out from among us, to meet no more by the 

 sunny streams of earth ! We shall see them no more until we gather at that 

 shining shore, which is the boundary and beginning of a new life. For a little 

 while, good friends, adieu ! and joy be with you if ye stand among the blessed 

 chosen ! 



I love to think of those dear old comrades, with many of whom I have 

 tramped and camped a quarter of a century ago. even while their venerable heads 

 had already begun to whiten; and I rejoice to feel that the pleasure of the 

 retrospect is scarcely less satisfying than the pleasure of the hope which throws 

 its gleam forward, even to the far-off portals of the heavenly arcana. The halo 

 of their exit is hardly less radiant and beautiful than the pervading glory of the 

 promise. "Blessed are the pure in heart." And who shall hereafter live to better 

 illustrate by their pure lives and simple manners the goodness which so often 

 germinates and thrives among the sinful rocks and tares? 



Thanks be to the Creator who has so ordained the laws of nature that the 

 longest and best lives are vouchsafed to those who find their chosen quest and 

 pleasure in the open air! No tree of evil grows in the Eden of the angler; but 

 vigor of mind, elasticity of limb, amiability of manner, loving kindness, content- 

 ment and healthful introspection cluster and hang like grateful fruit upon all the 

 branches everywhere. Wherefore I am enabled to rejoice that so many of the old 

 guard yet remain ; that they still live to kindle new enthusiasm from the fire of the 

 ancient altars, and enjoy with us their long accustomed pastime. The silver 

 threads are already beginning to line your own brow, old pard, and your sturdy 

 limbs don't give out the involuntary play they used to do ; yet the afflatus within 

 your bosom is as mighty as ever, and you have a consciousness which needs no 

 quickening. The old monitor inside gives out as full, responsive and sonorous a 

 sound as if it had not already swung within its weather-beaten belfry for three 

 score years and ten ! To us, who are sauntering through the valley, it is indeed 

 delightful to hear "the ring of the true metal." May it chant the vespers for us, 

 when finally, at eventide, we reach the still waters ! 



Now, you know how it is yourself be a man never so old, he still can plod, 

 and still can fish. Whatever other functions fail, this remains. An angler may 

 outlive all his usefulness, but he can never outlive his longing for the old haunts, 

 and the enjoyment of fishing, so long as he can sit in a boat and feel the nibbles, 

 albeit his joints are too stiff to play the struggling captive home. And this is why 

 I am constrained to write unto you, pard ; and, when I see the familiar name of 

 some member of the ancient brotherhood shine forth betimes in the columns of 

 your journal, to say to them : "Come, let us commune together." You remember, 

 once upon a time, long ago, "when we were first acquent," how the old guard used 

 to gather at the rendezvous, and what a mighty corps of new recruits there was, 

 and how they seemed entirely of one faith and one consanguinity, and how all 



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