142 FISHING IN AMEEICAN WATEKS. 



quately describe the pleasures that surround the angler? 

 The most compendious, truthful, and summary is contained 

 in the poetical exclamation of O. W. Holmes in the following 

 couplet : 



" Oh ! what are the treasures we perish to win, 

 To the first little minnow we caught with a pin!" 



But who can catalogue the pleasures which cluster around 

 the angler's pursuit ? He pursues his avocations amid scenes 

 of beauty. "It is he who follows the windings of the silver 

 river, and becomes acquainted with its course. He knows 

 the joyous leaps it takes down the bold cascade, and how it 

 bubbles rejoicingly in its career over the rapids. He knows 

 the solitude of its silent depths, and the brilliancy of its shal- 

 lows. He is confined to no season. He can salute Nature 

 when she laughs with the budding flowers, and when her 

 breath is the glorious breath of spring. The rustling sedges 

 make music in his ear when the mist has rolled off the sur- 

 face of the water, or the dew been kissed from the grass by 

 the sun's rays." The lark sings for him, and robin red-breast, 

 with the brown thrush and jolly bobolink, pipe and chirp 

 their mellifluous notes along his path. The gorgeous- king- 

 fisher heeds him not, and the meadow-hen seldom moves from 

 her nest as he passes. The storm and the tempest scarcely 

 hinder his sport. He throws the line when ruddy Autumn 

 gilds the western heavens, and the fruit of the year hangs 

 heavy on the bough, or waves in golden abundance on the 

 uplands. Even stern Winter does not forbid him his enjoy- 

 ment. If he cares to pursue his favorite pastime, he may do 

 so equally when the tall bulrushes, wavy reeds, and chestnuts 

 rattle with December's winds, as when the marsh marigold 

 opens its big yellow eyes on an April day, or the birds of all 

 song, size, and feather congregate along the streams, and teter 

 on the sprays that kiss the ripples, while they chirp and ca- 

 vort with their mates on yonder side the stream. The au- 

 tumn trolling season over, the angler begins to think of the 

 springing into life of all nature, when again the frogs begin 



