The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1894-07-03
PLANT OF AN OLD.TIMER.


place. Went up to have trout FISH.
Hadn't been trout fishing before in
twenty years. And l want 10 say right
now that I'll never go again. Never.
Didn't 1 catch any? Yes, l caught
several. Some nice ones, too. But
that isn't IT. Things have changed.
Things aren't like they used To be.
There's more to trout fishing, accord
ing to my way of thinking, than just
catching trout. Maybe I'm an old fOgy.
Perhaps I've lost the run of what's the
proper caper in these latter days But
1 I've got memory, just the same.
bought q new front rod the other day.
Paid twenty dollars for it. If you
should happen to go up where 1 was
trout fishing you might see what's left
of it. No, / didn't break 1t on big
trout. III tell you about it.
Thirty years ago i used to fish that
| brook. l hadn't been there in twenty
years. The other day the old memo
ries came back to me so appealingly
that l couldn't resist them.
III go up and enjoy myself at the
old brook once more before l die,
said ].
And 1 went. I got up bright and
early. just as l used to do when l went
fishing. The same four-mile walk TO
my favorite stream was before me.
That was nothing. In the old days
| thought nothing of walking fifteen
miles to a creek. begin fishing at once,
and fish two miles on the stream before
/ discovered that it WIS time for me to
be tired. Here was the same road that
had led me on a thousand times. As [
trudged along the brown thrush greet
ed me with his flood of matin melody
from his leafy covert at the roadside
Just the same as he used to. The fussy
catbird scattered the dew from the
bushes in silvery showers. as she f1ut-
tered Tuning from bough to bough.
/ The red squirrel chartered and scolded
from the crotch in the old chestnut
tree. The crow from the top of the
tall dead pine cawed his contempt for
me, knowing that / had no gun. Tree
and shrub and flower, bathed in the
mornings moisture-fresh, unsoiled,
and fuIl-fed-partook of the Joy and
health felt, and every flying, running.
creeping thing was refreshed and sat
isfied-aIl just the same as it used TO
be.
'And, by and by, 7 came in sight Of
the same farmer, turning his sweet
breathed cattle into the roadside pas
ture. to revel knee-deep in juicy grasses,
lust as he used to be doing when l
passed that way in the golden days.
Instantly L remembered the hearty
greeting the honest, homely fellow al
ways gave me.
Good mornin' 70 ye,' he used to
say. Coin fishin', hey? 'Feerd We
won't hev much luck to-day. Winds
Ieetle too much outen the east. Yit, il
was you, an was bound to try il. I'd
cut right across my medder, yonder,
an strike in at the OF alder hole. My
boy Tom snaked out a powerful nice
mess right along there, yesterday. It's
good fishin' all along through my med
der. If We haint got your worms dug,
Tom I'll go an dig We some. I'm
afeerd the winds a leetle too much
in the east, though. But good luck
to YEP
''How well I remembered that old.
time greeting of the farmer. And how
glad | was to see him still hale and
hearty! OF course. thought i, he has
his greeting ready as of yOre, and his
neyer-failing tips about the best
places TO try the stream. He waited
for me.
- Coin fshin'. be ye?' he said.
"WeIl, l want to tell We right now that
We better keep often my premises; it'll
cost We list two dollars TO FISH on me,
an if We don't want to pay that, why,
I'd advise We not TO set yer foot onter
my land, fer III take the law on ye till
We can't rest"
THAT wasn't the same as il used TO
be. And as proceeded with my days
fishing I found that nothing along the
stream was as il used to be. Signboards
on every tree warned me that 1 could
fish there at my peril, unless paid a
certain toll When ] had paid and
fshed. l found that it was only for
ceytain time and distance. and that
must keep a-movin'.' No old-tiTe
lunch hour in the shadow Of the oak
No Iolling on the grassy old bridge.
NO Stopping mere anu tuCTE 10 tdr+ II
with the eye ard ear dear Natures
ever-changing moods and haTmonies-
No loafng and inviting OF your soul to
rest.
And once / saw a scraggly-headed,
barefoot boy, with rude switch and
horse-hair line, come stealthily from
the bushes. and with timorous chances
snatch a chance here and chance
there for trout among the ripples and
eddying pools. Presently he was seized
BIZ some booted guardian Of the stream,
his fish confiScated. his homely tackle
destroyed. and he beaten and driven
away. This. indeed, was not as IT used
10 be. left the brook, broke my rod
in twenty pieces. and scattered i along
the bank. And l came home. The
charm Of trouting was gone ] hadn't
fshed for trout IN twenty year,. And
/ never viii again
SCARED Tax AGENT.
Cs~rfrrs.s T-Ea-ra