SABBATH DEVOTIONS. 229 



unto my soul than the chants of choirs invisible 

 to the souls of many men. The blue-grass at my 

 feet is carpet more pleasing to my tread in this 

 my temple of the woods than the plush of velvet 

 is to others in temples wrought by man. The 

 arching canopy of oak tree and the greater arch 

 of blue which stretches out into infinitude above 

 is more awe inspiring, more begetful of rever- 

 ence in my being, than would be the gothic arch- 

 es of any cathedral conceived by brain of hu- 

 man. Then let the oak tree my Sabbath temple 

 be ; let the sun be the God unto whom this morn 

 my reverence is due and this spot of mother 

 earth the altar at which I kneel to do homage 

 unto hirn. 



My devotions over, matters more practical be- 

 gin to assert themselves. My larder of fresh 

 meat is almost empty, so to the deep hole above 

 the camp I a -fishing go. The instant my hook, 

 baited with a fine old grasshopper, hit the water 

 my cork went under but I missed the biter. Two 

 minutes later a goggle-eye of a pound's weight, 

 was in my clutches, the bronze blotches on his 

 sides showing prettily in the morning sunshine. 

 For full two hours I tried to catch his mate, but 

 failed. If goggle-eyes inhabit a pool and intend 

 to bite they do so at once. Meanwhile M. came 

 up and fished with me without results. Just as 

 we were starting to dinner, E. G. made his ap- 

 pearance, bound again for his favorite botanical 



