AN ENTHUSIASTIC BOTANIST, 181 



and bare places on the face of mother earth 

 to cover them with a sheet of green whose vig- 

 orous growth but goes to prove how luxuriantly 

 more useful plants would flourish if carefully 

 tended by the hand of man. 



In company with E. G., an enthusiastic young 

 botanist from the near-by town, I spent an hour 

 this afternoon in a marsh of a few acres a half 

 mile up stream. On the way I fished in various 

 places but without results, then setting my line 

 in a deep hole, we went on to the marsh of 

 whose semi-aquatic plants E. G. is making an 

 especial study. The sun was beating down with 

 unwonted vigor and as the plants were all old 

 friends of mine, I suspect E. was somewhat dis- 

 appointed at my lack of enthusiasm. After a 

 time he went up the ridge on a search for other 

 plants and I back to my old cane pole to be a 

 boy again. 



The bait was gone and I felt big fish were 

 there. Putting on a large grasshopper I sat 

 down and waited. For twenty minutes there 

 was not a nibble, then suddenly my cork bobbed 

 under and out I pulled the biggest goggle-eye I 

 had caught this season. How I exulted and, 

 fish in hand, hurried up the bank to get the 

 empty bucket which we had left by the side of 

 the pathway. Soon another of the same size 

 was hooked, then a large catfish and a long- 

 eared sunny. Luck was with me but my bait 



