The Meeker herald., 1892-11-12

nature and and here the old doc
tors voice shoolS-''it is forty years
since this hand has grasped rod or
this finger put its pressure on trig-
ger"
Heavens and arth!' exclaimed
tho trapper. What u useless life
ye must have liye ed"
''lt seems so TO you. dare say"
cried the doctor. But placed as /
was-Why. John Norton. when / had
been twenty years in the ministry it
was regarded as a deadly sin for
Clergyman TO s ate or slide down hill.
or shoot a rifle and in tho winter
months when the snow lay soft on the
hills and the clouds were as lead and
the air hollow | have locked myself
in my chamber and buried my head
in the pillows that i might not hear
| the glorious music OF the hounds as
they raced noses breast high, after
the flying game.
Friend" said the trapper .ye
have done injustice to Yer natur'. that
| fine natur' the Lord give ye ut birth.
and sold yer birthright OF happiness
! for mess of miserable pottage Ye
have fed yer feelin's on husl;s when
the plenty and mcrriment OF yer
fathers house was open to ye. Here.
| take the rod take the rod. say. and
let yer old fingers feel the hcft OF it
and yer ears hear the whirr OF the
reel once more" and the trappcr
literally thrust the rod into the white
| hand OF his hesitart companion.
| But oh the change that came TO
] 4 Il =. ~
gers closed on the polished butt He
fairly caressed the reel with his
white thin hands; his eyes lighted us
he poised it rs for cast; his form
Strengthened and his left foot was
pushed forward: fine flush glowed
through the pallor OF his cheek; he
seized the leader AMI with wide
sweep OF his hand drew dozen yards
from the reel and laughed allow. hap
py laugh ut the singing thereof.
Make cast make cast cried
the trapper. 'I.engthen the line
and make n cast to the far edge OF
the pool where yon bubbles be in
line. Ii the Lord sends We tho trout
he ought to send yc, he will take
twenty yenrs from yer head to the
bottom OF the river with him..
Then and there on tho ledge that
juts into the Racquetts tide just be-
low the mouth OF the Cold river did
the church OF Common Sense become
incarnate. As Ole Bull would stand
posed before the expectaut thousands
when he lifted his bow so vibra mt
erect graceful stood tho old divine
ready for the cast In an instant
came the motion of the arm. tho turn
of the wrist that all anglers know but
no words may describe. and up went
the flies into the air. flew backward
and then shot straight out over tie
whirling tide. Downward they lloated.
| lighted like vagrant feathers amid the
| bubbles and
''Salvationn' screamed the doctor.
"A trout" A trout such as is rarely
seen hung in the air three good feet
above the flies and the bubbles. Tail
| Hat and big as shingle. mouth open.
/ belly red rs \ stormy sunrise, fins like
| a rainbow the huge sides dotted with
| shot of reddest rose-so hung. in full
/ sight for moment above tho dark
stream. then fell with n mighty flash
and was gone
I
spot and il he lifts strike quick and
strike hard in honor OF the rod and
the pool and yer boyhood days and
be hanged to the Pharisecs yelled
, tho trapper
/ Oh. the cast that the old doctor
made and the answer that flashed
| from the depths! The nervous old
wrist struck quick and struck true.
| the twisted silk shrunk to the strain
and the water flew in fire mist from
| the braids. so strong was the stroke
and so heavy tho fish. Thea down,
| downward he plunged. full OF force
| full OF fire. u line breaker rod
smashcr Is he. and through the
| strong. swirling current he tears like
/ n sub marine bolt fired TO kill. See
the line cut the water! See the rod
sway and culver! Hear the shrill cry
| OF the reel see the old minister's lace,
1 the flush OF the cheek the CLEAN in
| the eye the set look OF the mouth.
the white hair dying free. Then sec
the great fish on the bank. the two
white headed men bending over it;
hear tkeir laughter; see their clasped
hands; SEQ the old divine fine n caper
| like the flourish that preccdes tho Jig
and the green balsams and pines and
through their dark branches patches
and spaces OF blue sky. Can you not
sec the picture and sketch you.
brother angler. that hangs in my
memory over the big ledge on tho
Racquette just below whore the cool
current OF Cold River flows in.
Many things have We lost aud many
changes have come to me, as to thee.
with the years. Faces which were
! 10 our eyes like stars to dark skies
have faded from sight; voices whose
greetings and farcwells made music
to our ears sound no more. and hands
that clasp ours warm and true we in
the throng OF today reach Tor in
vain, seek and find not But tho
rivers on which we boated TIE lakes
where we camped. the streams that
we iished. tho hills and the mountains
the lilies and wild roses tho green,
fragrant trees the still lonely camps
that we made years ngo-theso we
see as OF old. These memory holds
( dear and hangs high in her hall. and
dearer they grow as our heads get
white and our eyes grow dim, while
our sun reddens to its setting and
that cleaning which we trust will
bring forth anew the sweet stars that
have faded. as we sit hoping and
waiting comes silently on IN. Y.