WAYS AND MEANS 



golf, if the talk be conceived in that spirit — 

 but I drift. 



A parson, full of years and dignities, 

 made little of fatigue and flies, — of all the 

 unaccustomed things which must have been 

 several torments to one whose ways had 

 long been ways of pleasantness. His suf- 

 ferings were only measured for us by a 

 violently red undershirt and a word spoken 

 to his own soul. The colour of the garment 

 was not fast. It ran, and working outward, 

 imparted with successive labours a deeper 

 tinge to all he wore; yet his spirit was 

 unconquered. A day came when, ruddy 

 with the transuded dye, he stood beside the 

 best and the remotest pool, giving butt to a 

 huge trout that was tearing down the cur- 

 rent. Above the scream of his reel and the 

 roar of the fall I caught mutterings not 

 intended for any ear: — 



'It's worth it all! It's worth it all!' 



Gallant old boy! — fishing now, I'll war- 

 rant you, some Elysian stream, if the 

 Management does not deny the glorified 

 what things they loved best upon the earth. 



At four in the morning, cold rain drum- 

 ming on the tent, I heard one struggle with 

 wet clothes and boots. Twelve hours later 

 he returned — twelve hours of scrambling 

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