RECREA TION. 



4 2 3 



sun. With this bard of nature it were sheer 

 sylvan joy for votaries of Diana and Nimrod to — 



' ' Stray where babbling waters flow 

 And watch unfolding roses blow," 



in the land of Rob Roy or of Hiawatha, Maid 

 Marian, or Minnehaha, on Nature's breast. May 

 the birds of Paradise be singing to him now, 

 who so divinely sang to us. 



LOAFIN' ROUND WITH JIM. 



W. M. HUNDLEY. 



Slippin' round with Nigger Jim, 



Foun' er rabbit in 'er bed ; 

 Took er rest frum off er lim'; 



Tried ter shoot 'er in ther head. 

 Overshot 'er, aimin' high; 



Keep frum spilin' meat, I swo' ; 

 'Ear Jim holler—" Lordy, ki ! 



Ain't yer shamee? Hain't no fool ; 

 'Ear me talkin'! 1 kin knock 



Rabbits settin', far an' cool, 

 Heep sights better, wid er rock. 



Tiger got 'er ! Tole yer so ; 

 Hoop-ee, whi' folks, thet's er houri ! 



Hab ter fly ; 'e sartin sho' 

 Cotch 'em fa'rly on ther groun'." 



Lyin' roun with Nigger Jim, 



In ther sedge on Graveyard Hill, 

 Restin' back, an' beggin' him 



Fur the rabbit Tiger killed. 

 " Tiger's numbered ; that 'e am — 



Dar 'e go now, up de slant ! 

 Lordy, mussy ; save me Lam'! 



Dat's no rabbit ; hit's er hant ! 

 ' How I knows dat ?' 'Kaise I do ! 



Ain't I seed 'im ? I'se got eyes ! 

 Great big, white thing, burnin' blue — 



Seed it yander, on dat rise. 

 ' K'ep er runnin' ?' 'Deed I did. 



' Couldn't cotch me with dat gun ?' 

 'Cose yer couldn't, 'kaise 1 hid ; 



Do I'se runnin', des for fun." 



Settin' round with Nigger Jim ; 



Fire er roarin' on the hearth ; 

 Stretchin' uv er rabbit skin — 



Proudes' on top o' earth. 

 Jim's ole daddy lookin' on', 



Talkin' to us 'bout our hunt ; 

 Sayin' how, 'fore we 'us born, 



Sich er rabbit wus er runt. 

 " Bless yer, honey ! 'fore de wah, 



Over yander, in der seep, 

 Us is seed 'em, me 'n yo' pa, 



Mos' es bigger dan er sheep. 

 ' Cotch em ?' No, sah ! narry bit ! 



Dey was s' vig'rous es er horg. 

 When us jump em, us des lit, 



'Kaise us sheered dey cetch de dog." 



"I set four pies out on the window sill to 

 cool, " said Mrs. Hunker to her husband, "and 

 they have all been stolen." 



" Then we must number them among the lost 

 tarts," was the philosophical reply. — Detroit 

 Free Press. 



FISHING NOTES. 



Editor Recreation. Middlebury, Vt. 



It is too commonly supposed that the waters 

 of Vermont and Massachusetts have become 

 nearly destitute of trout, except where controlled 

 by private parties. A few years since it was my 

 fortune to demonstrate that good trout fishing 

 could yet be had in some of the public streams of 

 the former state, if not of the latter. 



Probably it is not known to many sportsmen 

 that the best time to take large trout, in a stream 

 of swift running water, is in the night, from sun- 

 set until nine, ten or even eleven o'clock, especi- 

 ally if it be moonlight. Then it is that large 

 trout " lay out" of the deep water of the pools 

 to feed in the shallow waters, where through- 

 out the day not a fish would be found. The 

 coming on of the darkness finds the rapids alive 

 with the trout, and ever and anon one will hear, 

 or see,, the splash of the big fellows as they leap 

 for the white millers, or other insects, skim- 

 ming the surface of the water. 



Once, an old time angler and expert fly caster, 

 who was stopping at our house, passed by a 

 large dam on the New Haven river, and the 

 right of the river with its deep holes and swift 

 water, and especially of the old dam, elicited the 

 remark that there must be trout in the stream, 

 and that he guessed we had better try them some 

 time. 



He needed only the suggestion. The next 

 evening found us — a party of three — on the rocks 

 below the dam, my old friend full rigged for 

 fly fishing — just as the shades of evening were 

 beginning to fall. At that time I had not learned 

 the art of fly casting ; neither had the other man 

 who was with us. We stood, by, interested 

 spectators. It was an experiment with us, for 

 few trout had been taken from the place for years, 

 though there was the proverbial tradition that 

 the deep, dark hole, under the dam, con- 

 tained some " old sock dollegers." The first 

 few casts brought nothing. The trout had never 

 seen artificial flies before, and felt justified, at 

 first, in refusing to take notice of them. 



But soon the programme changed. Two or 

 three small ones had been caught, from a quarter 

 to a half pound in weight, when our friend struck 

 something of more consequence. A short but 

 spirited contest followed, ending by there land- 

 ing on the rocks at our feet, a fine two or two and 

 a-half pound trout. We fished, or rather our 

 angler did, about two hours, and we returned 

 home with a large basket filled with trout. 



We repeated the experiment on the following 

 Saturday night, with like success. From 

 that time on, we caught many fine trout out of 

 the river. We fished the whole length of the 

 main stream, or nearly so, and usually with ex- 

 cellent success. The fish were fine mountain 

 trout, often weighing a pound and a half to two 

 pounds, and I have no doubt that good fishing 

 may still be had on the streams. Every body 

 was astonished at the fish we caught, and doubt- 

 less there are other streams in the slate that 

 would yield good sport if properly canvassed with 

 rod and fly. The two catches to which I re- 

 fer yielded 16 pounds of fish; place, New Haven 

 Mills, Vt., on the river of the same name. 



W. A. Remele. 



Box 273, Middlebury, Vt. 



