Brothers of the Angle 
flocks of chickens trailing in their wake, every man and 
boy with a drop of vagabond blood in his veins is tempted 
to go fishing. Accordingly if we follow the path through 
the sweet-flag meadows down to the creek where the oaks 
are shaking out their delicate catkins above the water we 
shall be pretty sure now to find the most comfortable 
spots along shore pre-empted by brothers of the angle. 
Silent and motionless they sit, an ever-present sense of the 
possibility of a bite giving a spice of excitement to a life 
which meantime has touches of Eden in it—the benediction 
of the sunshine and the breeze, the melody of birds and the 
fragrance of sweet flowers. Mysterious, indeed, are the 
ways of nature that in every generation she should plant 
in certain elect breasts this same longing to sit in the 
shade of a bush and contentedly watch a cork on the water 
till it be pulled under. 
May i 8. —The wild azalea is everywhere filling the 
woods and glades of Whitsuntide with the glory of its 
bloom. This trim little shrub can always be depended 
upon to come into blossom at this season of the church’s 
Pentecostal festival, which was known among the early 
Dutch settlers as Pinkster—a word near akin to our pres¬ 
ent-day Pennsylvania German Pingsta; and as the flower- 
loving burghers of New Amsterdam could not fail to no¬ 
tice the profuse bloom of the beautiful wilding they 
gave it the name of Pinkster flower, by which it is known 
in the vicinity of New York to this day. Pennsylvanians 
usually call it the wild honeysuckle, though really it is 
not that, but a true azalea. The lovely flowers when at 
their best are arranged in soft, buoyant spheres at the 
[47] 
