40 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



summing up of his character. Men who think that the 

 accumulation of money by continuous industry is the 

 main thing in life have always decried those who did not 

 follow their precepts and examples, but there are other 

 standards of life than those of old Ben Franklin, who 

 thought that a boy or man should work like Gehenna and 

 never spend a cent. John Atwood followed the bent of 

 his inclination, and was happy when he did not have to 

 work at uncongenial labor; yet who could be more ener- 

 getic at removing a stone heap and digging out a rabbit? 



As he approached manhood the necessity of labor that 

 was more remunerative gradually pressed upon him, and 

 the day came when John had to leave the birds and the 

 fish in their haunts and take a place as fireman on a rail- 

 road locomotive. The engine which startled the wood 

 duck from the lily pads had to be fed with great pieces of 

 wood, and the puffing monster drowned the song of the 

 bobolink and the whistle of the quail. John never could 

 have loved such a noisy, obnoxious thing. One winter 

 day about thirty years ago his engine stood at a side track 

 at Poughkeepsie ; the boiler burst, and the mangled body 

 of John Atwood was thrown far out upon the ice of the 

 river. As I read the account of it in a distant land the 

 thought came : Who will say to the boys, "A flock of geese 

 went north yesterday and the fish ought to bite good 

 now," or "The bluebirds are building in our pear tree an' 

 it's time to go in a-swimmin' "? Who, indeed? 



The geese have gone north many times since, and the 

 bluebirds nested in their old home until the aged tree 

 broke and left only a stump, which I saw last year when 

 on a pilgrimage to the place ; but the poor, torn and shape- 

 less thing which the Coroner took from the ice no longer 

 notes the seasons by the coming and the nesting of the 

 birds. 



