The times., 1899-12-10

gent oil the author. II Is INTENDED as a
lullaby for a child and runs after this
fashion:
Furl your sail my little boate
Here's the haven still and deep,
W here the dreaming tides, ln-streamlnst
Up the channel creep
See the sunset breeze Is dying;
H3r6 the piuvcr, iandWard n'ing,
softly down the twilight crying
Come to anchor. little boaue,
In the port of sleep.
The first essay is a whimsical disserta-
ton on chance as illustrated by the fish,
erman's luck Mr. Van Dyke is of the
opinion that, many good and worthy people
10 the contrary Notwithstanding. the word
chance is not impious or improper, but
was intended TO be used. and tuat luck is
T a part of the constitution Of this world,
and intended for human education. tie
thinks that we are not fitted to live in a
world where there is no Y, no unknown
quantity. Then be goes on to speak OF the
happy changes and surprises which even
the moderately poor may make for themsel-
yes in the way Of camping out and ge ing
close to nature; and from this he drifts
gently into a delightful description Of ma
Jure herself as she appears to the camper
out at dawn-and every dawn in the woods
is d fresh surprise. He is no ornithologist
though evidently a lover OF birds; but
what scientific man could have inserted
into his treatise a daintier bit OF dcscrp-
ton than this?
He sits down on = mossy log beside cold trick
ling spring 10 eat his lunch. IL has hegn a bar
ren day for birds Perhaps he has fallen into the
fault of pursuing his sport too intensely, and
tramped along the stream without eyes for any
thing hut fish Perhaps this part OF the grove
has really been deserted by its fedthered in
habitants. scared away by proving hawk or
4 fIv NHrF.f N
notice the luck changes. 4 surprIss-pIrty OF
redstarts breaks into full play around him. All
through the dark green shadow OF the hemlocbs
they flash like little candles -C8udClitJs, the
| Cuhaus call them Their brilliant markings OF
orange and black, and their HuttcTiHg, airy,
| graceful movements make them most welcome
visitors. There Is no bird in the bush easier to
recognize OF pitaSantor 10 watch. Ihey run along
the branches and dart and tumble through the air
/ in fearless chase OF invisible flies and moths.
| al the time they keep unfolding and firling
| their rounded tails. spreading Them out and
! waving them and closing them suddenly, Just
! as the Cuban girls manage their fans. In iact
| the rcdstarts are the tiuy nntail pigeons Of
| the forest.
There is humor in the book too or a
| quiet and subtle sort, not unlike that of
| Lowell, Higginson and other essayists OF
| the Boston school of fifty years ago; and
| nothing in American literature Is better
! than their work In discussing the ques-
| tion whether fishes can hear the author
| tells the story of an eel which lived in a
| gardenwe in Scotland and used to come
and be fed from a spoon when the chill
| dren called him by his singularly fitting
name, Rob Roy Then Mr. Van Dyke
! adds that before deciding on the veracity
/ of this tale he should like to know wheth-
er the children stood where the eel could
/ see the spoon
Again, in the fifth essay. there is a
fr,r4i fsy,t,
| whether lovers really ought to fill the
whole landscape in the way that they some
times do, and as it probably voices the
I more or less hidden sentiments OF many
people. it shall be quoted;
DO you believe ihat In an the world there is
/ only one woman especially crcaed tor each man,
and that the order OF the universe viii DE hope
| lessly ISkcw unless those two needles find each
| other IN the haystacEI You believe IL for Your
! self, perhaps; hut do you believe 10 for Tom
Johnson Nou remember what a terrific dis
! turbamce he made IN the summer OF 1898, at Bar
llarbar about Efliror Brown. You saw them to-
1 Seiher occasionally three years after at LenoN-
Are Eou honestly of the opinion that il Tom had
not married Elinug those TWO Young live, would
have been total Wrcct3
Nj Van Dyke does not confine himself tc
ganeralittes. His book is fun of local col
or. He has skirmished all over several
good fishing ground Canadian NV Eng
land Long Island. and so on. Sometimes he
has lad interesting companions. Once he
was fishing along the saltwater when he
found Joseph J1tferson stretched out on q
rock. and Jefferson told him that Rip Var
| Winkle'-the play, NOT the man-was born
in Paradise Valley beside that stream
| But for the most part the fisherman histo-
rian's companions are only birds. fellow
anglers, or the ubiquitous barefooted and
frecklefaced urchin. The first angler
must surely have been a small boy. (Nev
York: Charles Scribner's Sous.)