WINTER TALKS ON SUMMER PASTIMES, 9 



have brought to me more joy than "when oil and wine in- 

 creaseth." And as my love of angling has grown with my 

 years, so every recurring holiday has been more impatiently 

 longed for and enjoyed. If all my days had been days of 

 idleness, bringing with them neither conscious responsibility 

 nor the pressure of duty, I might have lived as unprofitably , 

 and passed through life as wearily as the ennuied pet of 

 fortune, whose indolence and incapacity are the only pro- 

 ducts of his inherited wealth, and, worst of all, I might 

 never have known the delights of that man who finds pleas- 

 ure in the silent woods and loves to go a-fishing. 



In my immediate vicinage there are not a few beside my- 

 self who are fond of the angle quiet men of gentle habit 

 simple wise men, as unostentatious as they are merry-hearted, 

 and who carry about wHh them a clear conscience, a con- 

 tented mind and the elements of perpetual youth. It is their 

 custom to often ' 'f orgather" while waiting for the return of 

 "the time of the singing of the birds," when it will be right 

 to go a-fishing. Among them are men of divers profession 

 philosophers and educators, merchants and politicians, but 

 not one among them all who would engage in any service, 

 however remunerative or honorable, that would debar him 

 from his annual outing, with rod and reel, for trout or sal- 

 mon. Tnese meetings are only less delightful than the fas- 

 cinating pastime which constitutes the exhaustless theme of 

 conversation. Every phase of the art is discussed, but the 

 experiences of each individual during the just closed season 

 is always first in order. Some of these experiences will enter 

 into these familiar " Winter Talks on Summer Pastimes." 



