46 Travels in a Tree- top 



are old, and while animal life lasts they will 

 be retained. 



Nowadays we generally outgrow this love 

 of trapping, or it remains in the love of sport 

 with gun or rod. But, old Izaak Walton and 

 Frank Forrester to the contrary notwithstand- 

 ing, I hold that nothing in fishing or shooting 

 has that freshness, that thrilling excitement, 

 that close touch with nature, that clings to 

 our early days, when, in autumn and winter, 

 we went the round of the traps. How 

 through the long night we had visions of the 

 rabbit cautiously approaching the box-trap 

 on the edge of the swamp ! How clearly we 

 saw in the corner of the weedy old worm- 

 fence the stupid opossum bungling along, and 

 awoke with a start as the clumsy creature 

 sprang the trap from the outside ! I pity the 

 boy who has not had such a distressing dream. 



No boy ever turned out before sunrise with 

 a smiling countenance to milk or help in any 

 way with farm work ; but how different when 

 it was a matter of the traps he had set the 

 night before ! The anticipation of success is 

 an all-sufficient incentive, and neither bitter 

 cold nor driving storm deters him. Of a 

 winter dawn much might be said. No boy 



