New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1881-07-10
GOING 1-FINHING.
world

| is always something restful in the remembrance
OF tho tens of thousands Of other busy men who
| for two brief weeks in the year have left shop,
! patients, clients care and wUrrleS behind and
are lettering through country lanes or are lost
in the anXieties of pulling % trout out of the
water. TO go a-fishing is an Americans
highest idea of rest. He cannot easily resign
himself to doing nothing, to lie and doze on the
sandy beach or warm hay, between his three
solid meals, simply making u gro wing animal
OF himself for the time, as he ought TO do.
| When he reckons Oh the chances OF the tide
| and the next risc,' or chooses the fly to crop
into the brook which will best suit the sky
and wind and humidity outside, he is only
bringing his knowledge and facalty to bear
| against new antagonist. He has still the
| satisfaction OF "making" something. But it is
a lazy combat The sounds of the listening
woods, more quiet than silence, the chilled
sunshine, the bed of moss and fern, the smell
of the live earth, the wash of tho cool water on
his feet, calm him without his knowledge. Old
| friends OF his boyhood come back and renew
! their friendship. The squirrel ALWAYS q conf
cal fellow, glints at him from the Trunk of that
sycamore, the partridge whirrs from under last
| years fallen leaves, the whppoorwil calls
| from Tho top Of the oak at his back These old
acquaintance have not changed II whit nor
grown old, like all the others; they have no
| vulgarity to jar against his finer perceptions
they have no miserable tale of want to tell:
| mono OF them hints that he should uIbutton his
| full pocket to n needy old chum. They arc
going on with their old employmcnts and fun
just ~ if he had quilted them IN hour ago.
The doves have not left Of their sad story for
| moment the ants sCampcr up and down the
gray bolcs, they have not vet finished that
underground n
kcroIs spiders swing as usual on their silver
threads from the branches above, ard bob into
his face, and there III the moss is the Identical
chipmunk that he nearly caught yest9 rday
Surely 1t was but yesterday! Forty years can
not nave gone by since he made one of this
company. He does not stop TO reason about it,
The forty years are bottcd out ; he is with his
old companions again, and no older than they
lie comes home at night to the farmhouse out
side OF the vide forest, and brags Of his string
of spotted trout to every body lie meets But it
Is not the fish which he has caught back thero
that satisfies and cures him and sends him
back to his work il halcr, happier man. 1t il
the freshness, the vigor, the life OF his boyhood
which have been kept waiting for him in the
wood all this time
In one sen sc or another we Ill go a-fishing in
our summer holiday. Catching fish is but an
other name with most mon for the rest and re-
building OF physical and mental faculties which
all hard working Americans must have or fall
victims some day to nervous or cerebral dis
ease. In our pursuit of them we might, how
ever, take II useful hint or two from the s,ilrul
angler. He does not troll ia the Atlantic for
trout, nor try TO catch muscalonge in n Penn
sylyanla mountain stream. lie knows precisely
what he himself wants and tries to end il in
its proper habitat with all tie knowledge. skill
and appliances he can command Other men
ana women not so rational They have
pTobaDly but two weeks in which TO catch the
rest and inauguration shat is to carry them
through the whole Of the oyerworkcd year yet
they allow wife, children, acquaintanccs, or
still moro absUrdly, phbIic opinion. TO send
them TO the place where it is absolutely certain
they will not find Them Brown. who of all
things would in his secret soul enjoy {, rnin, in
with the harvest hands on Il Farm like that on
which he vas raised, and sharing their stead
stretch of hard manual labor, plain fare and
homcly ways, goes down TO the Branch. smokes
unlimited cigars on the balcony discussing pre-
clsely the same topics rs he did in Wall Street
last week, with the same men, or s,arcs. per
spring and miserable, in at the Waiting
crowds from the aI-room door jostled by
dancing boys and negro walters Or Smith.
whose soul really eXults in the hustle and hurry
and gossip of n big summcrng place, is dragged
by his literary wife or aesthetic daughter to
some isolated spot to commune alone with the !
mountains or the Why should Smith be |
forced to drink the wine of the gods when his |
mind and body demand tho smallest of small |
Deerf Let every man find out whether his |
natural appetite Graves a diet Of trout or mus |
calOnge, or walrus, il needs must and then in |
tho nainc OF common sense go and eat his fill |
for these two weeks without regard TO any
loOkers-on.
Perhaps this National faulty in the search of |
amusement is nowhere so evident as among |
Americans who 90 to Europe. Just what pro |
portion OF the staring crowds who during this |
July will follow their guides through interim |
nable galleries and cahcdrals listening TO half !
lntcllglblo Jabbcr of Rnbcns, Titan or this |
school or that really could tell if left TO their
unaided intcllcctS the difference between An old |
master and "a good chrOmOY TO how MANY is n |
specimen OF tho Old Norman architecture any,
thing but pile of stones and cr,lrabling
mortarf The whole thing is bore, and they |
only drag through it because n VOYAGE to En- |
rope, art and brlc-a-brac are Us much a mart Of |
their improved condition in life as their new |
landau or much-porticoed house at home. |
When they come to Paris they begin to have d |
gusto of real enjoyment The shops, the CAV |
crowds, the life, the brilliancy tho bargains
these are pleasures which they can taste and |
Understand. A mans enjoyment must be |
based upon and proportional to his education |
and temperament Why should we waste orr
holidays as well as our working months in |