The sun., 1919-04-06
SPORT GIVES JOY
TO ALL THE SENSES
Pleasures Of Going Afield
Without the Single Pur-
pose of Destruction.
DELIGHTS OF OUTDOORS
NJ ROBERT n. DAVIS.

All the good fishing in the world IL
not had with hook, nor all the good
hunting with gun Let US not in the
swift procession OF ecstasies that come
to us In tho great out-odors, forget that
there are other moments than the Ash
coming. to the creel, the bird crumplng
In the air, or the beast breaking the sky
line with his last plunge before slipping
into eterndty. "H
There is an hour in the morning when
the dew, emerging from It's sodden slum-
Der Of the nighttime. rises from the
gorse, glides from the leaves and goes
dancing into thin mist before the golden
flood OF sunshine. Subtle perfumes
stealing through the bracken, scent of
earth, cooled by the xephyrs of the
forest. the mingiing aronas OF pine and
maple and dogwood, the smell Of wild
flowers. the intoxication Of arbutus reel
ing into the lap of spring inhale deeply.
The day grows apace, the warmth
distills the essence of the woodland, the
pungent tide flows across the landscape,
redolent with the exhalations Of sum-
mer. Here are opportunities to become
drunk with the frankincense Of nature
on the ambrosis1 couch of the world,
lulled by tho scent of summer rains,
waited from remote valleys vague, In
tangible, maddening. like the breath Of
fairies iDvisible embalming ones eye
lids. Friend. have you slept by day out
OF doors? Let US proceed to dreamland.
Harmony of the Outdoors.
Close not your ears to the harmony
of Gods music, the orchestration Of tho
thrush. the high peltinE crescendo Of
the cock Of the wood, the rataplan Of
fhn al he a.. -
tain quail, the flute. melodious. melting.
mellifuous of the red wing; the matin
of the bell bird, the drumming of grouse
and the piping of the partridge.
What is thas strange and mysterious
murmuring that flies like rumor through
the forest7 Is it the sound OF the trees
growing, the bursting of buds. the dron-
ing OF the bees, or Is Il the breath of
Heaven? Attune your ears to this mys-
terry OF undeflnable sound. blend it with
your dreaming. you who are dust to
dust. earth to earth. Perhaps It is the
voice OF the world seeping from the
very ground through the atoms Of your
personality; or mayhap a threnody to
passing time lamenting your inaction.
Be not averse to composure. Sleep
on. When the high sun has fed the
quadrant, and Is dipping westward. and
lessly and then vawn and stretch your
limbs. and vrestle with tho grass he
meath YOU.
Open your eyes Sec that soft. MI.
green of half-leafed aspens, the sage
tones. the browns. the purpIes in ha1y
vistas. the sinister boles OF ancient
oak trees like dark sentries in a SHIN
merinx Iandscape
Worlds Beauty for the Asking.
c.. a.. ~,
"' uppoI oeeo'.
~ t"e uarN green Oh
yonuef Guns me t'reo hres' whose coais.
their red cheeks with ashes.
Tho sraIa 80. &C., -
u,oodcook ILL., 49,. 70 ill., ~, ~
no,hInr r.ssa, i..a .'n -
a,.as . o"auo"e
~ 80, $50 Snopies, peopie
- "''u ,''oush 'ne nm
81, ar upmaiu anu oh"aru INTO 'he
.r' .,i aealns1 "hich ur'rt
W. oat.si,o's OF restless CLOUDS and
across "hich lonely eagles soar.
fause at orook, accept Its murmured
Invitation. Lie down upon the moss that