1 88 Worm- Fishing. 



everlasting hills are around him, and eloquent in 

 their silence they tell of patience, endurance, and 

 strength. Yet are they " lovely in their strength," 

 for on this glad morning have they thrown around 

 their native ruggedness the brightest robe of summer 

 green. Far above dull earth and its clouded day, 

 they rear their summits in the sunlight, and hope 

 is there, and calm. Down the peaceful valley, 

 from rock to rock, skips in its mad delight the 

 prattling child of the mountain, laughing to the 

 day, and hasting to be free. From out its dewy 

 bed the lark upsprings, and soars aloft to pay its 

 orisons at the very gate of heaven. What heart is 

 there but would beat in full accord with Nature's 

 own life-pulse, partake her calm and joy, and inhale 

 the spirit of her freedom ? Up the glen the angler 

 blithely strides, with a glistening trophy from every 

 pool, and fresh heart from every trophy. And if 

 he be not dull of sense or soul, he may bear thence 

 other treasures richer far, treasures revealed in 

 contemplation of the wondrous world of life that 

 teems in water and in air, of storied records in 

 splintered rock or ice -worn boulder, of beauty's 

 forms in mountain-daisy or in blue harebell, whose 

 modest graces cannot hide the touch of " an un- 

 rivalled pencil." Yes, 



" The poetry of earth is never dead," 



but to the lover of Nature is ever an inspiration 



