
... “slants in flashing riffles, long overflows of liquid music” 
the blended voices of catbird, thrush 
and flycatcher. I had heard him only 
once, and that years ago, yet I felt 
positive that my ear could detect him 
even in that golden cascade of bird 
voices. Suddenly, came a “whee-you— 
whee-you!” rich, long-drawn and as- 
sertive. No need to wait for the fol- 
lowing mellow piping—there he was at 
last! In fancy I could see his trim, 
rosy-red form, saucy crest and aggres- 
sive black mustache—the brave pet of 
old Kentucky, the cardinal. 
ay I finished dressing there came 
4% another sound, a low drumming as 
of finger tips against a door panel, 
and lo! the Judge, dressed, and slip- 
pered that none should be needlessly 
disturbed. And in his hand he bore 
a platter of ancient silver, richly 
carved by cunning craftsmen, and 
laden with crystal 'treasures, through 
the thickening outer dew of which 
gleamed rays of tinted light; and I 
whispered unto him: “Judge, I’ve been 
listening to God’s fair feathered 
things, and you, too, are a bird!” 
John was pulled out after infinite 
labor, and we went down, to find 
Charles already seated at the break- 
fast table. Soon came our cook, bear- 
ing a huge white platter, the contents 
of which presently filled the room with 
a most appetizing odor. 
“It’s her own brew of omelette,” 
whispered the Judge. “You’d best 
praise it, even if you don’t like it.” 
Like it! Ye gods! There never was 
one like it, and what with the coffee, 
ravishing toast and other dainties, I 
ate like a harvester, for that break- 
fast was a symphony in foods. 
Ae oes pipes and cigars a-going, we 
drove away through the sleepy, 
smoky shadows which still shrouded a 
faultless road. Up hill and down we 
rolled, over the fairest agricultural 
section of Pennsyl- 
vania. Mile after 
mile slipped behind 
as the good bays 
warmed to their 
work, but there was 
never a tedious 
moment in all that 
fifteen-mile drive. 
The huge purple 
blur of mountain 
gradually became 
more sharply de- 
fined, till we could 
see the matchless, 
billowy outlines of 
unbroken forest in 
all the beauty of 
the new leaf. Where 
a broad creek crept 
lazily beside the 
road, we turned sharply, and, in a 
moment, were in a magnificent cor- 
ridor, roofed with living green and 
winding for miles through the timber. 
We were at the bottom of a V-shaped 
valley with lofty forested hills upon 
either hand. Wild flowers of varied 
hues showed everywhere and the cool, 
scented air quivered with that music 
of all music, the song of the hurrying 
stream. 
This water was controlled by the 
Judge and a few close friends, and 
man could not ask for a prettier bit 
for trout of reasonable size. From 
springs seven miles away, it gambols 
downward to the creek, and fully 
three-fourths of its length is fishable, 
while some fine pools broaden here and 
there. Every yard of it is beautiful. 
At points it slides dark and deep 
through the tall timber, at others it 
sings almost hidden in dense grouse- 
cover; now and then the sun gets a 
fair look at it, and again it brawls at 
the bases of sheer rock cliffs, or foams 
around the opposing bulks of tremen- 
dous bowlders. And always between 
pools it slants in 
flashing riffles—long 
overflows of liquid 
music, a tireless 
treble forever blend- 
ing with the bass of 
its mimic falls. 
figs a spot some 
three miles 
from its mouth, we 
drove into an open- 
ing, beside which 
the team was to be 
left. Here were the 
only signs of man’s 
labor, a few ruined 
cabins half-buried in 
delicate greenery. 
Years before, an 
army of laborers had 
been busy hereabouts, tunneling into 
the mountain, gnawing like human rats 
at the living rock to make huge bur- 
rows for an expected iron monster. 
But the monster never came. The 
toilers were bought off before their 
task had been completed, and nature 
resumed possession and draped the 
scars and the mouths of the huge rock- 
burrows as best she could. 
OHN elected to go one mile down- 
stream before wetting a line, the 
Judge and Charles allowing me the 
same distance toward the headwaters. 
Hence, I had two miles of the best of 
the stream. We parted after agreeing 
to rendezous at the tunnels for lunch. 
After shipping up the little rod, true 
to old custom, I marched into the 
nearest pool till the water came above 
my knees. After one is wet he’ll go 
anywhere, and as no man ever left a 
stream with his trousers dry, he might 
as well get wet at once and be done 
with it.’ The water was cold, but that 
mattered nothing upon such a day. 
While moving about in the water 
getting tackle into proper shape, I saw 
something dart from under the bank 
and go flashing through the outlet, and 
I knew that something was a trout at 
least ten inches long. The sight of 
him was encouraging, so I silently 
worked toward a lower and small pool. 
HE first cast taught me something 
valuable. No sooner had the silk 
touched the water than two ghostly 
shapes fled from the pool and sought 
dark water within the shadow of the 
woods. 
“So, ho!” I thought, “then these are 
educated trout. None of your fearless 
fellows of Canadian brooks, but . 
Normal Graduates of the Glorious 
State of Pennsylvania.” 
Then the fun began. 
behind trees, such 
Such sulking 
crawling and 

... “now and then the sun gets a fair look at it” 
Page 198 
