148 WHAT I HAVE SEEN WHILE FISHING 



that many years had flown since I collected eggs in 

 the tallet of an outhouse. 



I strolled back and perched upon the wall again, 

 and was beginning to tell my companion how 

 much his grandmother disapproved of birds' eggs 

 being in her house, when a pull at my arm dis- 

 lodged me. My son has a trick that grows on him 

 of making me move forward when I am thinking 

 back. 



I am a little obstinate when so enchanted, and I 

 insisted on another peep through the semi-tropical 

 foliage at the rolling waves and wondrous rocks. 



The sniffs of ozone that filtered through the 

 tangled maze of sweet smelling herbs and flowers, 

 and the grateful shade from the hot sun, brought 

 unconscious happiness to me. Turn where I would 

 in this lovely spot there was a fresh delight that I 

 could not leave so quickly. 



II Just a moment, Kirk. See how Nature grows 

 in beauty. It was beautiful when you scampered in 

 the meadows and gathered your mother flowers ; it 

 is more beautiful now when you hunt for pretty 

 spots to take pictures of, and I hope it will grow 

 still more beautiful to you from year to year as it 

 has with me. 



" Listen to the little noises that haunt such 

 spots as these. Shut your eyes and listen how 

 they grow and grow in volume and how musical 

 they are and what a grand harmony they make. 

 Listen, listen, it's the lark's turn now to give a solo. 



