CHAPTER XXY. 



DOWN THE RIVER RUNNING THE RAPIDS A WORD 



OF WARNING HOMEWARD BOUND. 



And now, scholar, with the help of this fine morning and 

 your patient attention, I have said all that my present mem- 

 ory will afford me. * * But I shall long for the month of 

 May; for then I hope again to enjoy your beloved company 

 at the appointed time and place. And now I wish for some 

 somniferous potion that might force me to sleep away the in- 

 termitted time, which will pass away with me as tediously as 

 it does with men in sorrow ; nevertheless I will make it as 

 short as I can with my hopes and wishes. * * These 

 thoughts have been told you that you may also join in thank- 

 fulness to the Giver of every good and perfect gift, for our 

 happiness. * * So, scholar, I will stop here. [Sir Izaak 

 Walton. 



UR week's sojourn at the Forks 

 passed away "like a tale that is 

 told ; " but its memory, like " a 

 thing of beauty," will remain to 

 us "a joy forever." It was an 

 uninterrupted carnival of pleas- 

 ure. If all nature had combined 

 to minister to our happiness, we 

 could not have been made more 

 supremely content; and in a spirit scarcely less 

 devout than that which moved the Psalmist, 

 we often exclaimed, " Our cup runneth over ; '' 



