The record-union., 1896-04-26
Delights of Angling.

Sla.
Delights of Angling.
Among the many descriptive chapters
on angling by various authors, there is
one gem that stands out clear and
bright above them all, from the pen of
the most brilliant writer perhaps that
our State has ever known, the late E.
Med. Johnstone:
It is possible, he says, that there may
be in this world souls so sordid that they
never rise to any glow of enthusiasm
over this very old and enticing pastime,
but there certainly cannot be many.
Perhaps it may be a matter of educa-
ton, natural taste or early training,
this love of angling, but every man
whose boyhood was spent in the country
looks back with pleasure upon his first
fishing outfit. An alder rod, and a
horse-hair line, with a Bonded pin for a
hook, an angleworm, or a small piece
of fat pork with little tag of red fan
mel attached for bait, and how at the
first nibble at the bait the rod would be
violently thrashed over the head, and
the trout, breaking away from the I'M
barbed hook, would go sailing away into
| in the woods, and be discovered only
by the frantic endeavors to free himself
from an environment of dead maple
| leaves. A pretty sight it was, too, that
| trout, when you found him, his silvery
| sides dappled with dead leaves. Then
he was hung or strung by the gills on a
| crotcheted rod of witch elm that served
| the purpose of creel.
| All, yes! barefooted boy, will you ever
forget your long tramps over the slip
perry rocks down into the cool alder ave-
nues? Do the birds sing now as they
| did then? Do the daisies nod to you as
| they used to, and the kingfisher alight
| near by, to see what luck you are hav-
| ing, bob his tail a few times and then
| go singing down the stream? Does the
| first song of the bobolink or the coming
| Sandpiper in the spring affect you as
| it did then?
That honest pumpkin face, with its
rudy glow of health, literally sprinkled
with freckles, is much changed 1 see
and your outfit, too, split bamboo rod
| or "Kosmic" silver plated automatic
reel, silk lines, and flies with names and
| tails as long as the DEVILS darnng
| needles your brother used to tell you
would "go clean through small boys, ~
an osier creel, rubber stockings, and ]
know not what.
Well, do you mean to tell me, my
dear sir, that if you had the power, you
wouldn't swap that gilt-edged outfit
for the old home made one be brown
faced. bare-footed boy again for one
good long day in June and try your
| luck in the Big Line brook or in the
West Branch? We know one man
who would gladly make such an ex-
change, and give several dollars to boot
| The true angler does not find his chief
and only joy in the bare fact that he can
| slaughter SO many dozen fish per diem
He must take a genuine pleasure in ma
lures various moods. He of all others
will discover that she is very shy and
modest, hiding away in secret places
much of her choicest handiwork, and he
| who finds must seek. He must have
an open eye for the minutia as well
as the mighty in her works.
The little water ouzel on the margin
of the river" in the middle of his song
plunging into the stream, then bobbing
up serenely to take up his music where
| he left off, as though this little by-play
| belonged in the piece. This spry little
chap is always amusing.
Strange flowers and ferns cluster
about the roots of old trees, along the
| brooks, as they do not elsewhere,
There are cool, dank grottoes, vine
tressled and luxuriant, which one ray
of sunlight bursting through the fretted
Western streams that can only be
| ture realms of glory. Every dewdror
| is a gem, every vine a diadem. You
may scare the eagle from it's eyrie on
| the cliff, and he will show you in his
| heavenward rising circles how puny a
creature you are without wings
There are vistas of glory along our
vault of green transforms into minia-
! found in mountainous countries, vistas
with backgrounds Of eternal snow and
skies of sapphire, and, brother anglers
of all countries, upon the veracity OF
the fraternity in the West, we assure
you that you will find congenial spirits
here. and as fine liars for the opportu-
mites they have had, as there are in
America, barring, perhaps, the State
of Maine.
| We have trout in this country with
| the same scarlet-dotted, silvery- mottled
sides as navigate other streams of the
world. They are as large, as active and
gamy as anybody'S fish, and, If you
should come this way, we will guaran-
tee to take you up some streams that
| have their origin in the greatest mount
aims of North America-streams flow
| ing under the shadow of Ell Captain
and the mighty Sequoia, that have been
tossed and tumbled and torn in their
rugged journey from the high Sierra tc
| the sea; streams. too, that ripple and
sing their way down through the exu-
berant underground of the Coast Range
canyons, and there are fish in all OF
| them.