The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-06-23
Kessle['s Bridges
BY JOHN M'GovERN.

Wordsworth has given us lovely # expression of one of our frequent feel ings-the feeling that, in our wee years, we were in fact older. "Our q birth is but sleep and forgetting" said the Intimator of Immortality. Have we not all felt that at six years $ of age we walked with mature step? Have we not all looked back at the x little figure, standing in the sweet & light ot dawn, knowing now that God # did "wrap the cloud of infancy about N us, that He therein with our simplicity A awhile might hold on earth commun- ion undisturbed?"
 It is passion with me, of which I am becoming conscious, to explore that cloudland of infancy. There lie all the riches of this life. Do we grow profane of eye as age natures us? had a sister, born two years after myself. I remember that 1 stood one morning in the foot of her little wooden which had undoubt- edly been my own three summers be- tore-and rocked the cradle over. 1 had on a short red shirt, and can sec a half. nude culprit some twenty four inches high.
 That was indeed rift in cloudland, for none of the settings of that picture are visible-not an idea of the parents or even the look or size of the baby. What piece of Worke would such a man be at six? How Noble in Reason? How infinite in faculty? in forme and mouing how expresse and admirable? in action how like an angel? in appre- hension how like a God? the beauty of the world, the Paragon of Animals? This was the language of William Shakespeare, but it's spirit was the spirit of the fond mothers panegyric. Could an experienced man of six listen to these fatteries of his mother without feeling that they were trib- utes to undoubted worth? And if his world had now picket fence around it, would not that world soon widen to street-ay, to visits to the school house green? And had he not, in those days of his ripe manhood, in fact, ventured to the rivers bank, and learned with other wise fishermen who had caught big sunfish, not to put that sunfish in large spring whence he obdurately refused to come forth when summoned to appear for the family frying pan?
 All these wide aspects of life out side his mothers backyard had crossed the vision of the man of six when, as he played store in front of his mothers shop, one Saturday morning, the crowd of boys passed by.
 It is the instinct of humanity to learn the news. As all the world guessed and queried as to the destina- tion of the Port Royal fotilla, or the Butler powder ships, or the Spanish armada, or the Boulogne camp, so childhood ponders upon the possible projects of the town crowd Saturday mornings.
 The van looked solemn and import ant. They would speak no word. They bore fish poles, and carried bait. But the camp-followers would talk. They were going fishing, of course.
 "Fishingw That meant to catch 8 big pumpkin-seed and lose him in @ spring. The army has already gained another straggler.
 But sturdily do those great generals ahead-the terrors of men of six, ter- TOTS grown suddenly suspicious, or rather unwatchful, this morning 'sturdily do they march across the wagon bridge. The man of six is startled. Here, on this side, is the spring! Here is where they fish! On the other side is a far-off country, whither he went once in a carriage, truly, but at date when two horses in harness were such a wonder that he could spare no time to see what else offered itself to his observation.
 The stragglers are closing up. They are men of ten. There is no other man of six. There is no way back home for this adventurer could not get home now, and knows it. They are nearly across the bridge. There is not lad who knows this man of six. Some one has blundered. The man of six feels that it is the expedition. Why did they not stop at the spring, ii they were going to fish? There is . big sunfish in that spring!
 By this time they have reached the cars. Oh, yes, the cars! The man oi six and hls mother came to town on the cars. Our man of six was not born on the cars, for he remembers . time when he was not travelling, but he does believe that the railroad always goes-that it is like God, who never had beginning.
 So out on the track this host of rag