100 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



my young legs a good deal to follow him, specially 

 on the return trip. And no poet was ever more 

 innocent of worldly success or ambition. For, to 

 paraphrase Tennyson, 



" Lusty trout to him were scrip and share, 

 And babbling waters more than cent for cent." 



He laid up treasures, but they were not in this 

 world. In fact, though the kindest of husbands, I 

 fear he was not what the country people call a "good 

 provider," except in providing trout in their season, 

 though it is doubtful if there was always fat in the 

 house to fry them in. But he could tell you they 

 were worse off than that at Valley Forge, and that 

 trout, or any other fish, were good roasted in the 

 ashes under the coals. He had the Walton requisite 

 of loving quietness and contemplation, and was de- 

 vout withal. Indeed, in many ways he was akin to 

 those Galilee fishermen who were called to be fishers 

 of men. How he read the Book and pored over it, 

 even at times, I suspect, nodding over it, and laying 

 it down only to take up his rod, over which, unless 

 the trout were very dilatory and the journey very 

 fatiguing, he never nodded! 



ii 



The Delaware is one of our minor rivers, but it is 

 a stream beloved of the trout. Nearly all its remote 

 branches head in mountain springs, and its collected 

 waters, even when warmed by the summer sun, are 

 as sweet and wholesome as dew swept from the grass. 

 The Hudson wins from it two streams that are 



