Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1899-09-01
En- ROUTE, day s, 1899.

The gladdeSt OF the year,
or purpling hills and fragrant bloom,
Aud rivers bright and clear.
The banks of the brooks are green;
the boughs of the trees bend down; the
trout are Auttering in the streams be-
low, and the birds are nesting above.
The bees are humming among the flow
ers; the forests are singing; the waters
are laughing, and all the world is
radiant with joy. Love rides on every
passing breeze and turks in every flow
er. 1t is natures sweetest resurrec-
ton, and beauty reigns supreme.
What a glorious time to resurrect the
fishing tackle from its dusty tomb in
the lumber room, and the red worm
from his Shiny sepulchre under the
sod, and to impale him on the hook and
send him diving after suckers! What
glorious time to camp and frolic on the
margin of the froliclsing stream, with
skillets aud lard, and streaked and
striped bacon, and plenty of onions,
and corn bread, and good butter and
eggs, and fddlers to play, and mig
gers" for cooks; big fat trout frying in
the pan, black coffee simmering in the
pot, and snake medicine" in the
"chist" 1t is the Eden Of the seasons;
II is the heaven of life.
Whist n joy to llnger by the fishing hole,
And laz ly hold your fishing POLE
And wait for the fish to bite! What
delightful thrill is the thrill of a nib
bic. And when you hook a two-pound
bass and eagerly undertake to land
him liyh and dry, what beautiful
thoughts ra's through your brain and
what eloquent figures of speech escape
from your lips when your line gets
tangled among Tie limbs ten feet above
your head and you see your fluttering
prize dangle for moment in the air,
and then, with farewell flounce, bid
you good evening as he drops back into
the water and darts away like an ar
row! This is splendid illustration of
the feelings of candidate for political
Office who is sure OF his election. lie
sees victory dangling for moment in
the air about ten feet above his head,
and then, with farewell bounce, it
gets away from him, and there is
weeping and gnashing of teeth
Fishing is the greatest sport in the
world. There is nothing so eyhilarating
10, bn ahanl. -
jerk, and there is nothing so relaxing
az the sight of Il vanishing perch with
broken hook in his mouth There is
also great deal of relaxation in sitting
on snag five hours with batcd breath
and baited hook waiting for an exhilar-
alton which never comes. | have known
gentlemen to engage in this sort of re-
taxation all day long, and save their
reputation as fishermen only by buying
u string of the tinny tribe from some
old dushy wizard of the piscatorial art,
and then swearing in camp that they
did II with their little red worms. -
This is another illustration of the sue
cess of some statesmen.
The ultima thule Of happiness is the
sweet expectancy of a laughing and
EARNING gang of fishermen advancing
to the fishing ground in the morning
with buckets full of minnows, and
hands full of tackle, and pockets full of
cigars and tobacco and "sich like"
Poets may sing of banquets in gilded
halls where all the mingled sweets of
the culinary art are heaped upon the
table, and where fairies CLINT like
speckled trout in the crimson depths of
wine, and painted devils dance in the
amber floods of corn and rye" but
give me fshermans lunch and a
iisherman's appetite beneath the
spreading tree down by the riverside in
the decp-tanglod wildwood, where the
waters murmur at my feet and birds
make music all the day. Let the red.
nosed jewellers sip their wine and
chuckle over the triumph of their trdsts
and combines, but give me drink OF
sparkling water from the cold noun.
tain spring and liberty among the hills.
Let the men of millions have their
pleasure in their palaces; | envy them
not; let them pass the gilded hours
bowling and scraping on velvet carpets
al lOlling on sillten sofas; but give me
the pleasure Of the reel and line, and
let ire bow and scrapc on natures rich
carpet of green, among the redbuds
and honey-suckles, and Toll on the moss
coyered logs amid violcts and blucbclls
near the bend Of the river, where the
cranes bow and scrape to the tadpoles
and the bullfrog sings his sweetest
song Let historians tell of the glory
Of heroes bringing home their spoils
from conquered lands, but give me a
triumphal march TO my own happy
home with beautiful string Of fish
The hero will roll and tumble at nigh;
with horrible dreams OF blood and
death, but | will sleep like baby, and
dream OF trout four feet long,
Did you ever hear the old story of the
family of five brothers who lived in a
cabin? The only splecping arrange
ments they had were two quilts: they
all slept together on one, and covered
with the other, and in the night wher
one wished to turn over he shouted
spoon to the rest, and they all turned
at once. One day one Of the boys wen
to the river to shoot fish; he climbed 6
tree on the bank and crawled out on
limb over the stream and lay there
looking down and watching for scaly
victim to shoot at; but his position wa,
so comfortable that he went to sleep
and mischievous fellow passing by
knowing the habit of the family
shouted spoon at the top Of his voice
the sleeping fisherman immediately
whirled over and fell ten feet splashinl
into the water The hest ,yav IN in