XXIV 



RECREATION. 



A VACATION. AN IDYL. 



C. C. HASKINS. 



A fisher afloat in his light Racine 

 Went forth to battle a bidden foe, 

 And this was his song on the rippling wave, 

 His taunt to the monster that lay below : 



As knights of old their gauntlets flung. 



I dare thee from thy castle dark. 



I fight for fame, thy life I seek, 



Come forth, and brave one tilt with me, 



Or I will brand thee coward — knave ! 



I fling my shining lure afar; 



My Bristol light thy strength shall try, 



My silken line shall guide thee here, 



My Shakespeare sing thy requiem. 



His barque sped lightly o'er the foam ; 

 With glistening guns the waves seemed 



crowned. 

 The sun with clouds played hide and seek, 

 Now bright, now hid. The gentle breeze 

 Blew soft as from my lady's .fan. 

 The rustling leaves swift races sped, 

 Or whirling, waltzed in woodland through, 

 While trustful deer looked tamely on, 

 Nor, feared the wily huntsman's guile. 

 Afar the loon laughed out in glee, 

 The heron waded by the shore 

 And sought a meal from grass or foam; 

 While in the marsh, with echoing thud, 

 The bittern's phantom stakes were driven. 

 Bright plumaged birds, swift winged their 



flight, 

 Across the lake or through the trees ; 

 The wolf's coarse howl, the crow's hoarse 



caw, 

 The eagle's piercing scream on high, 

 Discordant broke the harmony. 



"Thou art a coward, craven, sneak!" 



The knight broke forth in thund'ring 



speech, 

 " 'Twas said of thee thou wer't not weak. 

 'Tis false ; or come within my reach." 

 As if the words had pierced his ear 

 And roused the quiet of his mind, 

 A musky darted from his lair 

 To seize the lure in anger blind. 



The strife is on ! a fight for life, 

 For freedom, home and liberty, 

 This, in the crystal depths below, 

 For fame fought he above the wave. 

 Now spring good Bristol like a bow ! 

 Sing Shakespeare, trill thy sweetest song, 

 Yet check this wild, this mad career ! 

 Flushed knight, he's worthy of thy skill, 

 He'll try the virtue of thy nerve ! 



"Ah ! woe is me, the line slacks down," 

 The angler cried in savage tones, 

 He's won the fight — the hero's gone ! 

 A broken line, all hope dispelled, 

 This, then, the record, blasted faith— 

 An angler's luck — farewell, brave knight, 

 I own defeat, thou'st won the fight. 



What! still art there? Is that the game? 

 And thou wert only sulking then! 



Fly swifter reel, oh ! cunning fox, 

 A racer now, a rush, he comes, 

 Then turns ! now sings again the reel, 

 The line's nigh gone; a few more turns, ' 

 He'll win his life and liberty, 

 Check, theck his speed or all is lost. 



He feels the curb, but still exerts a strength 

 That thrills the angler's nerves ; his breath 



comes quick. ," *• % 



Despite his firm closed lips and steadfast 



gaze, 

 A lurking fear is there — a wish 'twere done, 

 And in the boat the prize were safely lain. 

 "Thank heaven!" he cried. "I've checked 



that run at last ; 

 But three more turns of line are on the reel. 

 He drags, like any log ; his strength is gone, 

 Ah, victory! the glorious prize is won, - 

 And I have conquered water's doughty 



knight!" . ■- _ 



But once again his strength seems now" re- 

 hewed, 

 And once again he strains for added line, . - 

 While upward to the surface with a spring 

 He leaps, like any well trained acrobat 

 From out his native element and shakes 

 With wide ope'd mouth and gills "that look 



aflame, '*, ''?-'"' rr 



To rid himself of that which. holds him Jast. 



Thus, running now, then leaping high again, 

 And scattering watery rainbow gems afar, 

 The monarch of the wave at last subdued, 

 Like some wild captive savage, doomed to 



die, 

 Is led by slow and solemn pace along, 

 Then trembling lies beneath the conqueror's 



gaze. 



And the angler bows low 

 To the prize he has won, 

 And he thinks, as he kneels, 

 Of the spirit that's gone. 



No coward art thou ; thou art brave as the 



best. 

 Thy name shall be honored, a rainbow thy 



crest. 

 Swift swimmer, deep diver, high leaper, thy 



fame 

 Shall be higher exalted, extolled be thy 



name. 

 We will champion thy cause like a true 



brother knight, 

 With the pen or the sword will we challenge 



the fight, 

 May the ill sounding names thou hast borne 



heretofore, 

 In the deep waves be lost to be heard never- 

 more. 



"Mah chil'n," said the Rev. Washington 

 Lincoln •Gardner, fervently, "de wise vih- 

 gins, wid de oil to buhn, 'xemplifies de 

 Baptis' chu'ch ! Bress de Lawd for Mist' 

 Jawn D. Rockumfeller !" — Life. 



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