The Man Behind the Angler 



services of a good retainer; and as I have known 

 many of these men, in many waters, it is a pleasure 

 to say more than a word in their commendation. It 

 is often true that a good boatman or gaffer is a char- 

 acter in his way. One of the best-read Shakes- 

 pearean scholars I ever met was once my guide and 

 boatman in the Adirondacks, before it was opened up 

 to the world. In those days one had to ride on a 

 buckboard thirty or forty miles to reach the heart 

 of the mountains, and the deer and bear were not 

 dazzled by electric lights and the vision of big hotels, 

 motor cars, and men in dinner and evening dress on 

 the shores of Blue Mountain Lake, nor were the 

 trout in the chain of lakes familiar with the whirl 

 of a propeller. I recall making the round of one 

 of these lakes in one of the first launches placed upon 

 the waters. We passed a little shack on a clearing 

 by the lake side and the skipper said, " There's a man 

 who would blow me out of the water if he dared; 

 watch him," and pulling the whistle several times, out 

 came the woodsman who ran down the beach shaking 

 his fist at the little craft as long as she was in sight. 

 Bill Longley, as I will call him, not only had a 

 penchant for Shakespeare, but he was a man of 

 scholarly tastes and could have figured successfully in 

 several professions in the outside world, but his 

 poetic fancy led him to seek the deep woods and 

 the solitudes where he was happy, which, after all, is 

 the chief end of man. Bill was a clever fly caster; 



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