Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-05-19
ssThe Old SaW-WiII.-
by HENRY WARD BEECHER.

by HENRY WARD BEECHER.
Oh, that blessed day
What day was that? Fourth of July !?
General training-day? Thanksgiving
Christmas None of all these. Far more
important to our heart, was the day when
we first went fishing alone!
Whether we had permission we cannot
at this late period certainly determine.
We presume, from the recollection of no
anxiety, and from the distinct remem-
branoe of general exhilaration, that we
had dispensation on that day to roam.
There is a vague impression too, of dig
ging worms, of putting piece of twine
on to a pole. Then went we forth east
ward toward the river Bantam. Now the
river Bantam was to our young heart
what the Jordan was to a good and patri-
otic Jew. 1t was the chief stream in our
neighborhood 1t was the chief resort for
swimming purposes. For, though it was
hardly knee deep, and IN many places,
easily jumped across, yet, there were
pools, and notable one, called " Lords
Hole" doubtless from Litchfield family
of the name of Lord, where a small boy
could go in "over head" 1t was one OF
those clear brooks-a mere brook, which
mostly brawls over pebble-stones, now and
then widening into quite sheet, and
then, like men who have been too gener-
Gus, growing narrow again and deep.
Along its banks grew elder-bushes in
abundance, and here and there great trees
reached their branches over the stream
and watched themselves in the water be-
low.
Not great way above Lords Hole was
the " old saw mill y; not that there was
any mill there, or even mill-dam, but
tradition said that there had been one,
and the legend was probable, inasmuch as
two steep banks on either side, slopipg ur
sozae twenty feet, seemed to have formed
the wings of the dam aud the water
made fall as if underneath there were
the remains of some obstruction.
On the blessed day above mentioned, a
barefooted boy might have been seen on a
June afternoon with his alder pole on his
shoulder, tripping through the meadow,
where dandelions and geraniums were in
bloom, and steering for the old saw-mill.
AS soon as the meadow was crossed, the
fence scaled, and descent begun, ali ia
miliar objects were gone, and the over
powering consciousness of being
alone set ones imagination into a
dance of fear. Could we find our
way back =? What if big bull
should come out of those bushes q?
What if great big man should come
along and carry US off? To a six year
old boy these were very serious matters.
And nothing could have so well tested the
eagerness of our purpose as perseverance
under these soul-bewildering suggestions.
For, realities, in after life, are seldom so
impressive as imaginations are in early
life. A child's fears are cruel. They are
to him the signs of absolute realities, and
he is quite unable to reason on them, and
is helpless to repel or to endure them.
The fears of our own childhood constitute
a chapter in mental philosophy.
But no sooner did we see the sparkle of
the water than our soul grew calm again,
and happy.
Now, for the grst time in our lives, we
put on worm. We threw in the hook,
and trembled all over with the excitement !!
The hook and bait fell upon the wrin-
kled water, went quietly down the stream
and swept in near the shore, where some
projecting stone rooted over little pool
Out of that pool our little eyes saw some
thing dart, and our little hands, all a.
tremble, felt something pull. In an in
slant, with a spasm of energy, we drew
back the line, there was a flash in the air
"A wigglipg fash, and something smote
the rocky, gravelly bank behind Scramb-
ling up, we found a ShtRer, but, alas !
smashed to pieces! Soon another and an
other Jared in like manner, and it was
long before we could subdue our nerve,
so as not to dash the fish to pieces. Our
courage grew every moment. What did
zoe care if there was a bnll in the bushes ?
What if beggar-man should come along |?
What if great black dog SHOULDN'T
that thought was a little too serious
Black dogs were terrors not to be lightly
thought of, even by six-year old urchin
who had caught fish, alone, too! And so,
gathering up two roach and three sinners,
we started home. Up the sloping hill we
ran, till our fathers house shone out
among the trees, and then, with the dig |
nifty and nonchalance of conqueror, we
to make triumphal entrance |
But here, as often happens in the remi- |
niscences of our childhood, the vision
fails. We can recollect nothing of our
Since then we have fshed in |
many a stream and lake, and in the deep
never with half the exhileration |
of that first joyful hour upon the Ban
tam!
Not even there, again, would the fire be
rekindled! For, not long after, taking a
brother to be marvelling wit
ness of our success, we went again to the
Did saw-mill. The air was disenchanted |
The roads and bushes had no spirits in /
them. The brooks gurgled and rushed |
We caught our fish. few, but without
craze, and came solemnly home, wonder
ing what the reason could be that the
first time could be had but once.
Since then we have seen many grown
up boys seeking to reproduce first sensa-
ions and to make novelties perpetual
But each day must provide its own first
lines. Those of yesterday are shrunk
and faded Christian Union