vi. PREFACE 



of his experience, and although the author cannot add to 

 his text, yet he has ventured to give a few footnotes of 

 quotations from the book in question. 



The spirit echoing through some lines written by Mr. 

 W. Gilchrist Wilson will most certainly touch a sympathetic 

 chord in the minds of most fishermen. 



To AN UNKNOWN ANGLER. 



!< Following the course of a mountain stream we 

 came to a rude grave, a few slates put loosely together. 

 Its history is not known, but some say it is that 

 of a fisherman of the early part of the last 

 century." (1700). 



Sleep, unknown comrade, sleep 



Securely in thy cool 

 Slate bed, where mountain steep 



Purples the long, slow pool. 



Barely a cast away 



Aura rolls softly by, 

 Only a trout at play 



Breaks Nature's sympathy. 



Yet still we hear thy reel 



Go ringing down the stream 

 An unknown presence feel, 



And know we do not dream. 



For we are anglers all 



And ply our gentle trade 

 By ripple, rush and fall 



Pagan and not afraid. 



Then let us not repine, 



But wait our turn, and so i 



Reel in our little line, 



Shoulder our creel and go. 



F. G. S. 



