Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-03-07
AN IDEAL IDLENESS.
A SUMNER DAY IN NOES GROWN
WOODS ~ \ eAssLINo BROOK.


rAs.sAts Suggested ~ .. Afssr.Sss N
Nidssn.sr spsst In tAs SHADE 81 orsv.
i.s Trees on Couch Of Natures Down.
rirsisss Nature Never Rssts.
IT'S warm day In midsummer. and .
fisherman Il following along trout
brook. The stream runs through tho for
est-through hardwood groves, which,
owing to their scant underbrush. look al
most like English parks, through mossy
evergreen glsdes, whore every sound and
color Il subdued; through rocky ravines,
down which the water hurries with fret
full plants against the powders IN its
path, till at last Il finds an outlet IN .
mountain lake. /.
Today It IL evident that all the wood
life Is prepared to be lazy-even the
trout that are won't to rush 20 eagerly
at worm or fly. Now the fisherman be-
Gins to feel the influence Of this all per.
ysding inertia. and finally he lays down
his POLE and stretches himself out on the
brooks b. nk. Close to his side Is o
sound Of ripping water, cool and sooth'
ing. while the spreading top OF o maple
keeps OF the sun.
The bank here II covered with thick
moss-s pleasant couch waiting for some
one TO come and use II. In the economy
of the woods nothing IL permitted to
exist for itself only; the saplings have
their own life. but must also furnish
leaves and twigs to the deer. and bark
to tho nibbling hares. No plant or AMI
NAL Is entirely selfish, and 30 this hum
BILE moss, since II can do little else. Is
ready to serve az q resting place for the
weary.
There Is an old saying that goes, "Best
ease IL free ease"-or the ease bought
with too much labor Of preparation Is
hardly wort having. And this thought,
though II may not DO very profound,
suggests one great delight Of the woods,
everything is free-is natural. No one
but tireless nature has labored. Noeyes
have ached, no back has become bent, In
the making Of this couch OF moss; no
hands have toiled to rear the grateful
shade of the maple. Tho refreshing
splash and ripple Of tho brook Is freely.
unconsciously given.
The voluptuaries Of tho cast were close
students Of the art Of idleness. Loung-
ing on their cushions, t.ioy listened to
soft music and watched tho movements
Of dancing slaves. Other slaves waved
cooling fans. and, II their masters were
exposed to the sun. held silken canopies
above them. The eastern prince thought
that the pleasures of idleness could he
no further perfected.
But the dancers must often hayegrown
weary; the slaves holding the canopies
tainted In the sun; the fan bearers and
the musicians doubtless wondered at the
unjust fate which condemned them to
labor in order that others might enjoy.
No Indian rajah or Persian lord ever
reclined upon an easier couch than this
one on which the fisherman stretches
himself. The brook makes the most de-
nghtful Of music. Sunbeams dancing
on leaf and moss and .hpples are as
pleasant to watch as the movement OF
weary slaves.
Nor do the sights and sounds Of the
woods lack variety. The music Of the
water Is mingled with the twitter OF
forest birds-thrushes and wood spar
rows; the songful enthusiasm Of their
annual youth is past, but the midsum.
mer notes are full Of happiness, and tell
Of nests well stocked with little ones,
Squirrels chirp and chatter. The dead
leaves strewing the ground are OF every
shade of brown and red and yellow, and
the slender shafts of sunlight, which dart
down through the breeze stirred foliage
overhead, never fall twice upon colors
that are exactly similar.
The trout fisherman, half dreamy,
half observant, and wholly happy, has
lain there till the long, warm summer
afternoon Is drawing to close. The shy
little wood creatures that love the dusk
come out of their hiding places and run
near him, quite fearless Of his motionless
figure. Delicate, mouselike creatures
are here, the flying squirrels. In soft
gray draperies. A mink trots over the
wet powders In the brooks bed, and,
conscious Of Its own importance, eyes
the man suspiciously.
Darkness Is coming on, and 1t Is time
for the trout fisherman to 90 home. He
leaves the messy bank regretfully, hall
persuaded that idleness. and not wort
Il mans chief hlessing.-Francis s.
Palmer In Christian Union.