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GATHERED WAIFLETS

Gathered Waiflets

GEORGE McALEER, M. D.

Assembled and Publishkd

By Their Author

Worcester, Mass.

1913.

CU.'VKinHT lfll.1

By tiEORUK MrALKKK. M. I).

WORrEOTKK, MAHH,

PRESS OF THE

TRANSCKIPT PUBLISHING CO.

UxBRiDQE, Mass.

Ittl3

TO I[KR

H'llo UN TflK SKroN'l) DAY (PK .riNK

K IIITKKN itlNDKKI) AM) «KVKNTV-K(irii

KXrirAN(lKI) TIIK NAMK

IIKI.KN KKANCES KKNDAI.I,

K()R

MKS, o '.(IK McAI.Kt.R.

FOREWORD

" Now, half afraid
To scan the train that startled memory brings,
Thought backward glances, and an inward voice
Asks for the harvest of my summer time."

"Though fairer forms around us throng,
Their smiles to others all belong.
And want that charm which dwells alone
Round those the fond heart calls its own."

In the subtle economy of Nature a handful of
leaves upon a tree are of but little importance or value,
but when multiplied in numbers during the fullness of
Summertime they not only clothe the trees in a garb
of beauty, but they are also essential and indispens-
able; the biting frosts of Autumn soon end their tran-
sient day, clothe them in dullest brown, and angry
winds hurl them unappreciated and unmourned to
earth and oblivion. But no ! — an artist hand gathers
a vagrant few of their number, more fortunate than
their fellows, and weaves them into a beautiful and
enduring garland, each leaf contributing an added
attraction and importance not inherent in itself.

Even so are the thought and hope of their author
in assembling the Gathered Waiflets.

TOEQUATO TASSO.

An Address deliveeed before the Lady Fullehton Beadiso
Circle, Worcester, Mass., Febrdabt 6, 1894.

IT is with the utmost diffidence that I appear before
the audience that I see before me on this occasion.
The theme, for its proper treatment, and this dis-
tinguished assembly deserve the best efforts of orators
familiar with the subject and who could blend the
graceful imagery of the poet and the felicity of expres-
sion of the novelist. These, it is needless for me to
assure you, I cannot command. I might have noted
down many things in the life of our poet, and made
copious extracts from his masterpiece of Epic grandeur
that wouhl interest and please you, but knowing that
the extemporaneous is preferred, even if inferior, to
the written, I venture to adopt tlie former even at the
risk of failing to meet your expectations.

With poetry in the abstract we need not now
concern ourselves, for I am going to assume that my
hearers have left behind them, with their childhood,
the idea that all jingling words that fall pleasantly
upon the ear, no matter how perfect the metre and
melodious tlie rythm, is poetry. No, poetry is some-
thmg above and beyond; something that may not be
measured alone by metre and rythm. Poetry may be
likened to the tempest that stirs to depths profound,
to the lightning's flash and thunder's crash, to the

Gathered Waiflets.

aurora that precedes the rising sun, to the summer
shower, as if nature was weeping tears of joy, to the
rainbow that beautifies the heavens and typifies hope,
to the sympathetic friend who brings balm in the hoar
of affliction and sorrow, to the devout one whose holy
life is a continual prayer that lifts up and ennobles;
and again, when it touches the heart with all the varied
sentiments from the heights of joy to the depths of
dejection and sorrow as in a fond mother's love, it
seems as if it touched our dull human nature and lifted
us up to higher things as if by the band of Divinity
itself. Poetry is all this and more, and yet to no one
has it ever been given to touch every chord with a
master's hand. And so we have classification and
gradation.

Shakespeare may be called the poet of action;
Shelley, the poet of liberty; Keats, the poet of beauty;
Scott, the poet of chivalry; Wordsworth, the poet of
nature ; Milton, the poet of introspection and involved
description; Byron, the poet of impassioned and elo-
quent energy; Moore, the poet of the heart and senti-
ment ; and so we might extend the list. But to return
to our poet Tasso. High upon the top-most cliffs of
fame, "among the few immortal names not bom to
die," are deeply chiselled the names o^ the world's
greatest poets, and few there are whose works entitle
them to higher place or more loved remembrance 'ban
him whom we summon here to-night from out of the
tomb of ages — the determined student, the gifted
genius, the ohivalrco knight, the brilliant poet, the
reigning court and nation's favorite, and later the
poor, infirm, persecuted and abandoned Tasso.

Torqnato Tasso was bom in 1544 of illustrious

TOBQUATO TaSSO.

and highly gifted parents in the higher walks of life,
and he died in early manhood, in 1595.

At the early age of eight years he was famous for
his religious fervor and precocity of intellect. He re-
ceived his early education from the renowned teachers
of youth, the Jesuits. He grew up in a refined and
highly learned literary and critical atmosphere. He
was an early and voluminous writer as attested by his
Einaldo (which was given to the world when he was
but eighteen years old), Aminta, Torrismondo, La
Sette Qiomate del Hondo Creato, Genisalemme Con-
quistata, Gerusalemme Liberata, and other poems.
From early life he was accustomed to the society of
scholars and the inteUectually great, and in early man-
hood he became the idol of the most brilliant and
exclusive court in Europe.

His " Jerusalem Delivered "was completed during
his thirtieth year. He lived a devout life in an in-
tensely religious age, when high ideals and knighUy
chivalry and moral rectitude were at their best, and
when they won their highest and most enduring
laurels. Like many another of the world's great intel-
lectual giants reverses overtook him in his later life,
mental disturbances dimmed his brilliant intellect, and'
for seven long years he was deprived of his personal
liberty.

He was a loyal son of the church, and h , Jerusalem
Delivered" so abounds in Catholic doctrine, teaching
and practice that the bigotry and intolerance to which
the so-called Beformation gave birth and continued
life— save in exceptional cases among the greater
scholars and the more thoughtful, tolerant and appre-
ciative—have ever exerted a withering and all too sue-

Oatbered Waiflets

cessful effort to push aside and obscure this wonder-
ful work and to deprive the world of its vast wealth
of intellectual, poetical, ethical and literary treasures.

Tasso essayed a task hitherto not attempted, and
since his time not equalled by any other writer.
Unnumbered authors have won laurels and the plaudits
of their readers by the skillful management of a s igle
hero or heroine in their work, and when Shakespeare
succeeds in managing two characters— Othello and
lago — so well and so evenly balancing their contribut-
ing parts that scholars and critics are unable to decide
which is the hero of the play, the world bows down
before this great achievement of his mighty genius;
but Tasso essayed and triumphantly completed a
mightier and vastly more difficult task. He planned
and made his "Jerusalem Delivered" an allegory of
human life and human action — of man con.posed of
soul and body, of the good and the base— the crusades
the battlefield of life, and the assault and conquest of
Jerusalem, the toils and triumphs of man over the
trials, temptations and vicissitudes of life.

The transcendent genius of Tasso enabled him to
originate and give prominent place in his great master-
piece to different characters clearly showing forth in
their contribution to the action of his great epic — each
in his or her own sphere and way— a special charac-
teristic or trait of human nature — some distinctive
virtue, vice or passion— and this he does with such
consummate ability that the most learned scholars,
critics and reviewers in all lands agree that all of his
characters have equal place and equal prominence
throughout, that no character dominates over another
and that in this regard the "Jerusalem Delivered" of

TOBQUATO TaBSO.

Tasso has never been equalled. He makes every act
and deed of his leading characters embody and typify
some prominent attribute of human nature — to men-
tion but a few of the many — Godfrey, kingly, digni-
fied, just and noble — highest type of manhood guided
by reason and reflection; Argantes, ireful, powerful,
bold and noisome — type of arrogance, brute strength
and anger not governed by reason or judgment ; Bald-
win, thoughtful and meditative — type of the methodi-
cal man who acts only after reason has been invoked
and approves ; Binaldo, fiery and passionate — type of
impetuous and unreflecting manhood that acts with-
out weighing consequences; Armida, beautiful, allur-
ing and deceitful — type of perpetual youth and the
allurements, vanities and frailties of life; Clorinda,
earnest, grave, devoted — type of womanly women
ever strong and ready to pursue where conviction
leads; Sophronio, zealous, modest, retiring, steadft-.it
— type of purity and holy love.

It has been claimed as a high honor for the great
Homer that he was the father of the simile, but be
this as it may it is certain that no other poet ever
made greater use of tliis figure of rl oric, nor more
appropriately, gracefully and forcefuL. tl.an did Tasso
in his greatest work in which it is used upwards of six
hundred times.

It was long since proclaimed, and for many
generations it has been very generally conceded by
historians, artists and scholars, that Dante gave to the
world more subjects for the chisel of the sculptor and
the brush of the artist than any other author who ever
lived, if not more than all authors com' mad, and that
Tasso has done for authors equal sen.ce in the world

Oathkued Waiflbts.

of books and literature. Certain it is that some of the
most startling, popular and successful works of many
authors, from his time to the present, are but copies of
isolated portions of his greatest poem modernized and
amplified but not improved.

The mightly Shakespeare — the generous pilferer
from others, and whose conduct in this regard would,
in this more plain speaking age of the world, accord
him place with the rankest of plagiarists —fashioned
his Borneo and Juliet upon Tasso's Olindo and
Sophronio. This has always been known by the lead-
ing lights in the literary world, but lest it may be
doubted in this superficial age when so much incense
and red fire are burned before the shrine of Anglo-
Saxonism while industriously striving to belittle the
great achievements of other European nations, I crave
your permission and forbearance to parenthetically
and briefly introduce the unquestioned evidence of a
great luminary in the world of letters, the famed Dr.
Johnson, a great friend and admirer of England's
greatest poet and plaj-wright; and his evidence further
proves the general illiteracy and ignorance of the
English people down to modem times.

" The English nation, in the time of Shakespeare,
was yet struggling to emerge from barbarity. .
The philology of Italy had been translated hither in the
reign of Henry the Eighth. . . . The pnbUc was gross
and dark; and to be able to read and write was an ac-
complishment still valued for its rarity. . . . Our
author's plots are generally borrowed from novels;
and it is reasonable to suppose that he chose the most
popular. . . . And Fairfax's translation of Tasso's
'Jerusalem Delivered' was then in England upon the

TOBQVATO TaSSO.

Bununit of popularity. ... He obtained his ideas
from accidental quotations or by oral communication,
and as he used what he had, would have used more had
he obtained them. ... In the story of Borneo and
Juliet he is observed to have followed the English
translation where it deviates from the Italian."

The foregoing extrrcts are taken from Dr. John-
son's preface to many of the editions of Shakespeare's
complete works.

The ear marks of Tasso's transcendent genius are
also easily discovered and recognized in Spenser's
highly praised Fairiie Queene.

It is a long step from Shakespeare's time to the
present, but plagiarism and adaptations from Tasso
still continue. It is but a few short years ago that
Haggard's "She" created a furore in the reading
world, and this is but a prose rendering of Tasso's
Armida.

But in the limited time at our disposal I must
not extend the list. The work of no other poet so
abounds in a wealth of proverbial poetical gems of
thought, and no poet has ever been so generally and
frequently honored by having them adopted by authors,
orators, publicists and others from the time of Tasso
to the present day to give more elegant expression,
adornment, appositeness, point and force to their ideas
and best efforts, and the literary world has been greatly
enriched thereby.

The "Jerusalem Delivered" is not for the dille-
tanti— the flippant and hasty readers. Close applica-
tion and deep study must be bestowed upon a work so
comprehensive and so profound before its scope, its
unity of purpose, its triumphant fulfillment, its lasting

Qathirzo Waiflxtb.

beauty, and enduring superiority will be fully revealed.

But I mu8t not pre. ume upon your indulgence and
overtax your patience by Hupplying further biographi-
cal data or by attempting a general review of our poet's
greatest work.

I do wish, however, to detain you somewhat with
a consideration of the age in which he lived, the diffi-
culty of obtaining an education, his environments, as
well as the works which his transcendent genius left
as a priceless heritage to more favored generations.
This I am anxious to do particularly for one of many
reasons. I know I have the honor of addressing many
who are engaged in the praiseworthy occupation
of teaching youth, and what I particularly desire
to emphasize is the consideration of the attain-
ments of our poet without what are now deemed the
indispensable adjuncts of the schoolroom. You will
recall the date of the invention of printing by movable
types, and that books for use in the schoolroom, as
we now have them, were to him unknown. I crave
your indulgence if I ask right here, parenthetically, if
school books were blotted out of existence to-day and
teaching be confined to the oral only as in bygone
times what progress would be made in the school-
room t And with all the aids now at the command of
teachers, I ask where are the rivals or equals of the
early scholars T You need not be told that Tasso was
not the bright, particular star and solitary exception.
You know that the stylus of St. Augustine had traced
on parchment and given to the world, centuries be-
fore, his Civitate Dei, that the incomparable Summa
Tbeologia of the Angel of Schools shone athwart the
world like a ray of Divine effulgence three centuries

ToiiguATo TAiwa 19

before TaMo'i birth, th«t time had buried lixteei,
centuriee between the birth of bit gifte-l countryman.
Virgil, and hii natal day, and Dante prece<led him
nearly three centuriee. Scholars have lon(f lince
accorded Dante, Petrarch, ArioHto, and Ta«go the
proud distinction of being the greatest poeta who
ever shetl lustre on the land of their nativity, sunny
Italy, since the dawn of the Christian era.

Nor a.T-1 these the only giants in intellect which
illumined 1 e early years and blessed later generations,
but we forbear further enumeration lest we extend the
list to undue length and encroach too much upon your
time and patience.

At the time of Tasso's birth, A. D. \r,r,4, America
was a veritable terra incognita. It had but little place
on the map of the world and was as of little importance.
Religious tranquility had not been disturbed by the
rebellion of Luther, the apotasy of Calvin, nor the
wickedness of Henry VIII, and a careful reading of
history will reveal the fact that Christian nations and
Christian people cared less for personal aggrandise-
ment, which is such an unpleasant and withering char-
acteristic of these later times, than for the domination
of the spiritual as commanded by the Master.

Pope, hierarchy. Christian kings, princes and
nobles gloried in their rpligion and hesitated not at
great personal sacrifice to extend its blsssings to the
less favored ones of earth.

Brilliant examples of those who obeyed the com-
mand of the Master, "Go Teach," are too numerous to be
enumerated now, and we must be content with naming
as examples, two who may be regarded as contem-
porary with Tasso, and who left the imprint of their

Gatiiirrd WAiFLrm.

Kr»atn«M an'' lu^hidvementit as a rich leKacy to all
cnminK f(«D«nitinna, Ignatius Loyola and 8L Francia
Xaviitr.

The iipiritual wai not alone relietl upon to evangel-
ixts the worlr), aud the nworil wan often unsheathed in
tlie cauHe. Fnim the eleventh to the thirteenth cen-
tury the Christian nations wAge<l almost unueasing war
R){ainst Mohammed.in and inlidel countries, not for
iMin<|ue8t or gain, liut to recover Palestine and the
Holy Sepulchre from the scotfer and unlwliever and
to extend Christianity throughout the known world.

The most remarkable of all these ware was the
first Crusade, which was undertaken A. D. lOUti, in
which year it is recorded that not less than (i,l)UU,0<)U
souls moved forward toward Palestine.

This vast concourse was the outpouring of all
Christian nations, and was under the lea'^"'ship of
Godfrey de Houillon aided by brave men from many
nations.

The organization, equipping, disciplining, man-
oeuvering, moving and maintenance of such an army,a8
well as the method of warfare in those far off times, of
onslaught and repulse, of stratagem and personal
encounter (for powder and fire-arms were then not in
use) form a most interesting chapter in military annals,
and furnish ample scope for the most gifted pen. The
history of this Crusade is what Tasso tells in his
'•Jerusalem Delivered," wliich is, and will be the
marvel, admiration and delight of scholars to the end
of time.

At the outset permit me to say that the leading
personages and •..'ents, in this great work, are histoii-
cally correct, so we have a substantial and not an

To«<JlTATO TaDHO. 11

imiiginary or pcetiml (ounilation for the narmtinn.
Hi« leading charactem were real, living, acting person-
agei and participants in the event* which he recordit.
Not a uteless plan is formulated, movement made,
engagement entered into, that is adventitious, tentative,
or t!i»t could be omitted without injury and loss. In
sentiment and poetic expresHion he touches a respon-
sive chord with a master's hand that Hnds lodgment
in every human breast liomance, too, of the highest
tyne, runs through his pages and serves as a golden
thread upon which to string the jewels of his thoughts.

You frequently hear the remark, "That is like the
play of Hamlet with Hamlet left out" This, in a
broadersense, mav be taken as a measure of the inability
of writers to properly manage more than one charac-
ter, and when the Bard of Avon succeeds with two, as
in Othello and lago, his work is regarded with wonde^
ment bordering on amazement Not so with Tasso.
No one of his characters stands pre-eminent, subonlin-
ating all the others.

The kingly Godfrey, wise, just and firm; chivalrous
Tancred, flery, brave and resolute ; Rinaldo, inconstant
and sentimental; Arg-r.tes and Gemando, types of
human strength and brutal ferocity; Armida, thr
beautiful and deceitful ; and Clorinda, of royal lineage
and daring, are some of his leading characters, aad
who are so skilfully managed that each disputes with
the other the claim to greater prominence.

To attempt, therefore, a resume of this great epic,
however superficial and inadequate, would take us
beyond reasonable limit and I shall not now unde^
take it

Knowing well that romance and sentiment always

22 Gathsred Waiplets.

appeal to and interest an audience of the fair aez I
shall attempt but a brief summary of incidents in
which they have prominence, culling as it were but a
few flowers from a generous garland. And this, in as
far as may be in the time at our disposal, I will present
in the same habiliments with which our poet clothed
his thoughts.

Interesting as is the first canto, which treats prin-
cipally of the outpouring of different nations, the
organization of the army, and all the preparations
made in those distant times for the practice of the art
of war, we may not now stop to consider. This vast
army had not passed in review before Godfrey on its
way to the land "Where Christ the pangs of death and
darkness underwent," before its purpose was known to
the enemy, which sent spies recruited from the fair
sex into their camp to deceive and ensnare. This is the
occasion when our poet writes the oft quoted words : —

"And looked-for evil is a greater ill
Than the winged mischief when it comes."

And Aladine, of the infidel forces, being apprised of
the intent of the Crusaders, thus gives utterance : —

'I see," said he, "in this perfidious brood
Undoubted signs of new conceived delight;
The public evil is their private good.

"m wreak my will;
Destroy them all ; a sharp example make ;
Safe in their mothers' arms the infants kill.
Their temples fire, and to the lowest sill
Bum their abodes.

And first on yon scorn'd Sepulchre of theirs,
Shall the cowl'd priests be slain, midst all their vows
and pray'rs.

TOBQUAIO Tasso. 23

"Then with busy brain
In every fountain noxious drugs he throws,
And the polluted stream with secret poison flows."

Plots, counterplots and preparations for the con-
flict grow apace. Craft, deceit and perfidy are given
free rein by the enemy, and fair deceivers successfully
ply their wiles and evil machinations with many of
Godfrey's trusted leaders.

A heavenly messenger now appears and urges
Godfrey to proceed, who then holds a council of war,
when he

"Meets all men's words with such charms of speech
That while he compels he wins and pleases each."

In the answers of endorsement and approval,
among other beautiful things, our poet makes Peter
the Hermit say: —

" Our government is even
As a vague pendulum, which each one finds
Struck by as many hands as there are various minds."

And Godfrey concludes by saying:

"The period has arrived when we should rear
Our flag aloft; less fortunate will flow
The tide the longer we delay : things clear
Will set in night."

The day of battle at length arrives, and onslaught
meets repulse only to have the attack renewed and
see the vanquished become the victors. Again and
again attack and repulse, repulse and attack, and
not until the ensanguined earth was strewn with
mangled, bloody corpses was the Persian standard
temporarily lowered to the conquering Crusaders.
Tancred was ever in the centre of the conflict where

2«

Gathered Waiflets.

M '

Death reaped bis greatest harvest, and wearied at the
close of day, he retired to a living spring to quench
his thirst. While refreshing himself

"To the same warbling of fresh waters drew
Armed but unhelmed and unforeseen a maid ;
She was a Pagan, and came thither, too.
To quench her thirst beneath the pleasant shade."

Helmed and steeled as was Tanored, he deserted
Mars, and was immediately enslaved in the chains of
Love.

But she, discovering that she was not alone, de-
parted as swiftly as she came, leaving the impress of
her bifrli and warlike mien indelibly impressed upon his
heart.

The Mohammedans next employed the wiles of
beauty to ensnare Godfrey, and so weaken the Chris-
tians by depriving them of their invincible leader, and
thus avenge their losses and defeat.

Armida is commissioned to entrap the Christians :

"Go to the hostile camp; weep, tremble, sigh.
Each female charm that lures to love employ;
Let the lips aid the witchcraft of the eye,
Smiles flash through tears and grief despond in joy
Now shrink from notice, now vrith prayers annoy.
In weeping beauty o'er the wise prevail."

Her beauty, wiles and consummate skill gain her
admission to the presence of Godfrey, and finds him

"In simple vesture on a simple seat.
Calmly conversing with his chieftains round;
For genuine worth, though negligent, is crowned
With a sufficient ornament arrayed
In its own excellence."

TORQUATO TaSBO.

Mind less capable than Tasso's could never depict
snch studied wiles, invent such plausible claims, or
urge them with more persuasive eloquence. She tells
Godfrey that she was born and nurtured in the
faith he despised, that she was of royal lineage, that
her mother died in giving her birth, that her father
followed her mother to the grave five years later; that,
dying, her father gave her in charge to an uncle who
planned an unworthy matrimonial alliance for her,
which was so repugnant that she refused it, and failing
in this, a trusty servant assured her that he had
planned to rid himself of her by poison and thus
possess •'he crown which was rightfully hers. She
appeals to him in the name of chivalry to come to her
aid and avenge her wrongs, assuring him that —

" Lovelier is Mercy's smile than Valor's crown."

"Godfrey revolved; he feared some Gentile snare
Couched in her tears, some ambuscade of art ;
He knew who kept not faith with God, would dare
Break league with man."

And thus he answered :

" If God's own quarrel had not claimed these swords,

Now oath-bound to His cause, thy hopes might rest

Thereon in perfect tru ■• , — not pitying words

But valid actions had thy wrongs redressed ;

But while His heritage is thus oppressed

lieneath the harsh rod of a tyrant king,

How can we grant, fair lady, th, request ?

Divided hosts declining fortunes bring.

And check the flowing tide of vict'ry in its spring."

And she, with Satanic cunning, cries out

"Lost! Lost! () skies! O stars! What evils more

Gathbhed Waiflbts.

Do ye prescribe ? Did ever one falfll
A doom ao hamh, bo merciiesg before?"

And deceitfully turning to Godfrey,

"Not to theo, gracious Chieftain I not to thee
Lay 1 this crime, but to imperious Fate ;
Oh that her active tyranny would free
My weary spirit from a world I hate !

"Now holy sanotitude and maiden shame
Urge me to go, but whither shall I fly ?
There is no refuge for a blighted name ;
E.'vrth holds no spot beneath the boundless sky
So secret but the tyrant's eye
WiU And it, and transpierce me; b-it — I go;
The Angel of Death approaching I descry :
Naught now is left but to forestall his blow ;
None but Armida's arm shall lay An,., la low."

Withdrawing from Godfrey's presence her abjec
tions, tears and impassioned appeals that worried him
not, touched the hearts of his bravest and less discreet
warriors, who said amongst themselves :

"Snrely he made the vexed sea roaring brine
His nurp.ing cradle, and wild wolvas that rave
On the chill crags of some rude Apennine,
Gave his youth suck : O, cruel as the grave.
Who could view charms like hers and not consent to
save."

The spirit of chivalry so predominated, and so
much dissatisfaction resulted from Godfrey's decision,
tliat he felt compelled to summon a council, and said :

"Knights, you have heard our sentiments, which were
Not to refuse the Syrian maid's request.
But our intended succor to defer
To a maturer season ; I recur

ToRQrATO Ta880,

To the same oharge,— yonr judgment yet is free

To follow my proposal ; in tlie stir

Of this unstable world, how oft we see

That 'tis true wisdom's part to change her own decree.

"Proceed or ataj then at your own free will;

To your discretion I the choice conflde ;

But choose not more than ten ; to me yon gave

Powers paramount, to royalty allied ;

This is my prerogative I cannot waive;

No ! for a powerless Chief is but a glorious slave."

The council was unanimous against (xodfrey's
decision, and so many were anxious to draw the sword
in her defence, that the fortunate ones had to be
selected by lot, who, with the maid, withdrew with
loud acclaim from camp. But, so strong was the spirit
of chivalry, that the next roll-call showed many defec-
tions and desertions in addition from the camp of
<Todfrey to her standard. We may say, in passing,
that all these fell prey to the Mohammedans and were
slaughtered or transported to distant lands.

This so crippled the Crusaders that (Jodfrey
wisely decided to make no further advances until
.succored by re-enforcements. Meanwhile the Moham-
medans were growing restive in their garrisons in the
beleaguered city, and made every effort to precipitate
an engagement, but Godfrey is unmoved and bides his
time. He tells his leaders :

"All equal crimes are not of like account.
'Tie for the great to givt-
I'vofif of obedience to the lowly.

To be mild
Power should I)e based in fear; when rulers spread
Too wide their mercy, Liberty runs wild.
And States decay-

Oathkred Waiflets.

I i

To wrath's first pist I deem it beat to bend ;

A cause by Power prejudged 'twere fruitless to defend."

Succor is slow to come, famine presses sorely,
and dissatisfaction and insubordination grow in God-
frey's camp, and Christian and Saracen alike, can be
restrained no longer. Clorinda and Argantes make
reconnoissance without the walls of the beseiged city
in the evening when

" The embers of the sunset's fires
Along the clouds burn down."

Seeing the twinkling lights in the camp of the
Christians, anil the towering rolling fort to be used
against their citadel, Clorinda, turning to Argantes,
said :

"There will I go with torch and sword and fire
Their rolling fort."

And Argantes answered,

" \\'ith thee, with thee this night too will 1 go
And all thy fortunes share, betide n-e weal or woa"

Clorinda remonstrates lest both should fall, and
Argantes' loss to the beseiged be irreparable. But
Argantes persists, and together they seek the Soldan,
who gives hia consent to the attempt. Here Clorinda's
eunuch steps in and attempts to dissuade her from
such rash adventure.

The words of the te.xt —

""Twas then her eunuch came

Who had her cradle rocked and nursed her from a
child."

Not succeeding in this, and fearing the worst, he

ToRQUATO TaSSO. S9

tells hep who she is and whence,— that, she was bom
in far away Ethiopia, of Christian parents, in the
harem over which he presided, but unlike them in
color, she was white as snow, which so terrified her
mother, lest it would argue her unchaste, and knowing
her father's jealous temper, and the eunuch's fidelity,
she parted forever with her child, sending it and the
eunuch to a far off clime, and substituting

"A new-born negro's infant for her own."

The parting of mother with her child is told as
only Tasso conld tell, and other words would fail in
the attempt to do it justice. In his flight with the
child, the eunuch encountered a tigress, and had to
seek safety in a tree, leaving the child on the ground.

The tigress approached and was fondled by the
child, and after nursing it, as would a fond mother,
departed leaving the child unharmed.

Re-possessing himself of the child, he continued
his flight, until he knded in Egypt. Being chased
one day by robbers, he escaped by swimming a roar-
ing, surging stream. Being caught in a vortex and
thrown about, he emerged, half dazed, only to realize
that he had lost the child in the struggle. Striking
out for the shore, he found that the light garments of
the child had buoyed it up, and that it had floated out
upon tlie sandy beach below. Being wearied he
stretched himself on the sand beside it to rest.

"-A^n'l slumbering on the sand
Methought the figure of a frowning Knight
Came near and pointing at my breast his brand
Imperiously exclaimed : No more withstand
Ihe solemn charge with which thou long hast striven

Gathered WAirLsra

A mother's precept : Cbrtiten, I command,
This babe the choice inheritance of heaven;
To my peculiar care the orphan child is given,
'Twag I gave mercy to the infuriate beast,
Life to the wind and mildness to the stream :
And woe to thou if thou ray words dispute,
Or as a vacant phantom dis-esteem
The heavenly form I am.

But as false I judged the dream.
And true my faith, I scrupled not to slight
The angel's threat, and still >vithheld the rite."

He tells her her history at length and concludes —

" Last mom a sleep, the simile of death,
Ere yet the stars had faded from the sky,
Sank in my soul, and by our holy faith
Again thy Genius, in my sleep passed by ;
And haughtier was his look, more fierce his cry,
Traitor, he said, the hour to dis-unite
Clorinda from the bonds of earth draws nigh ;

Mine shall she yet become in thy despite ;
Be thine the woe; he fi ,nied and heavenward took
his flight"

With tears he again entreats her to desist, and
she, remembering a like dream, or vii.ion, wavered.
But, in another moment, arousing hersei' to action,
she joins Argantes, and they betake '.hemselvee to the
camp of the Christiana and fire the roUing fort.
Bursting forth, the flames arouse the camp, and all
are in arms and hot pursuit of the fleeing ones, who
hasten back to the walled i-ity, Argantes behind to
protect the maid. All reach the gates at the same
instant, which open to let in the daring pair, but in
the confusion and haste Clorinda is shut out with the
enemy. Her self-possession and daring desert her not,

ToHQUATO TaSBO. 81

and the now ilipa in among the Ohristiang and en-
deavors to etoape in the darkness. Tanored, whose
keen eyes are not deceived, follows in hot pursuit, and
engages her in deadly conflict, not recogniaing her sex.

No other pen has ever given to the world such
detailed description of prowess, skill and endurance in
personal encounter.

Finally, after lengthy combat, which was main-
tained with equal vigor and prowess, and victory
hovered alternately ever each —

"In her fair bosom deep his sword he drives;
'Tis done, life's purple fountain bathes its blade."

And thus she speaks :

"Friend, thou hast won : I pardon thee, and 0,
Forgive thou me. I fear not for this clay.
But for my dark soul, pray for it, and bestow
The sacred right that laves all sins away.
Not distant, gushing from the rocks, a rill
Clashed on his ear; to this with eager pace

He speeds — his hollow casque the waters fill

And back he hurries .o the deed of grace ;
His hands as aspens tremble, while they raise

The locked aventayle of the unknown knight ;

God for thy mercy ! 'tis her angel face !
Aghast and thunderstruck, he loathes the light;
Ah, knowledge best unknown! ah, too distracting
sight"

Mustering all his power in such trying ordeal, he
administers the sacrament of baptism and hears her
last words :

"Heaven gleams; in blissful peace behold thy friend
depart!"

The battle is renewed in the morning when

■12

OaTURRRD WAirLRTH.

Arganteit, the furioui and hithortn invincible, charf^en
upon Tancred to avenge the fate of Clorinda, but the
■word of the Christian knight prevails, and Argantei
bites the earth. The Christians trinmpb and the wall*
of Jerusalem fall before the conquering cmsaders.

Nearly every character in the "Jerusalem Deliv-
ered" has an individuality as clearKsut and well defined
as that of Taneretl and Clorinda, the action and move-
ment of the epic is well balanced and harmonious, the
plot is of absorbing interest, the whole forming a work
at once the charm and delight of students and scholars,
and of which, one high in ability to judge, has pro-
claimed that "Not a single Canto in the work, not a
line in a Canto, nor a word in a line can be omitted
without marring the l>eanty and symmetry of the
whole."

MONEY AND BANKING.

AN AODBBIW DELIVERED BEFORE THE BT. JOU N 's TEMPERANCE
AND LITERA;.y OUILO, WORCESTER, MA»»., FRIDAY
BVENINU, FEBRUARY 25, 181)8.

1FIND myBclf in an cmbarraxHing predicament
to-night, and tlie only explanation I can ofTer is
the zeal of your spiritual director in your behalf
and my inability to say "No" when I should. As you
all well know, I am no financier or banker in the broad
acceptance of the terms, and yet I am to talk to you
on money and banking.

To adequately treat the subject wliich has been
assigned to me requires ability which I cannot com-
mand, and it would consume more time than is at our
disposal. However, a business life extending over a
generation of years has familiarized me with some of
the rudiments of both, which it may not be unprofitable
to spend a few moments to consider.

In the hurry and bustle of our every-day life we
find it very easy to adapt ourselves to the high civiliza-
tion surrounding us, so prone is man to reconcile him-
self to his enviroument; and it is so easy to assume
thut things have always been as they now are that we
seldom take the trouble to go back and investigate their
beginnings.

The genesis >f money and banking is as impor-
tant and interesting, and their origin, growth and
development are as tnu/ an evolution, as any other

OaTIIERXD VVMFLETg.

science. In primitive timei manv '.' ttures and com-
merce, ns we now know them, were unlcnown. Produc-
tion was limited to supplying tlie very scanty individual
wants of those far-off times, and too often these were
obtained by the robber band of might from the less
combative and peaceful producer. Man's wants grew
and became more imperative with the growth of civili-
zation and the ascendaii'^y of principles over might,
when it was learned that these varied wants could be
best supplied by the sub-division and specialization
of labor, the greatest step ever taken apart from
Christianity in the work of upbuilding and elevating
humanity.

It required no great profundity for the farmer to
perceive that it was more advantageous for him to
devote all his ability and energy to tilling the soil and
caring for bis sheep and cattle than to attempt to do
this and at the same time be a very indifferent artisan
in a dozen other callings, which under other conditions
ne would be compelled to nractice to indifferently
supply his wants. He soon became aware that he
could procure clothes to wear, boots for his feet and
tools to till the soil, of better quality and at less ex-
pense in exchange for the pioducts of his farm from
people who made a specialty of their production, than
if he made ♦hem himself — while the artisans ex-
clusively engaged in their production, and who could
fashion more perfect implements at much leas expense
than could the farmer, were only too glad to exchange
the products of their ingenuity and skill for the neces-
saries of life, and bo barter was established.

To make these various exchanges much time was
lost and much inconvenience resulted. After the lapse

MoNBY AND RANKINn. 85

of time thii wm in a mesiure r(ini«di«<l by (etting
apart a certain day at itattHl timeii whew all conhl
gather for the interchange of prmliictii. Thi» proved
a step in advance, and the ciigtom spread to all countrien
where civilization obtained a foothold, and this waa
the origin of the modem fair or market day.

But a new way miwt be found to tolve an old
difficulty, wliich, with the increased opportunities for
the interchange of commodities, became more and more
intolerable. One farmer had only wheat to sell and
needed in excliange only a plough, but the maker of
the plough already had wheat enough, and so both had
to seek a third party, a fourth, a fifth, or more, before
it was possible to effect an exchange. Another former
had a fatte<l ox and wanted only a pair of boots. The
boot-maker wanted the beef for food, but us one fatteil
ox would buy many pairs of boots, another inconven.
ience resulted. Again, owing to soil, climate and the
varied distribution of metals and minerals, a surplHS
of msny things is produced in one locution which
cauuot find r purciiuser where produced, while people
at a di tance might (lesire or even be in great need of
them, and yet it might be entirely impructicul to
attempt their exchange by barter. Jso under such
conditions it would be well-nigh impossible to ky by
the surplus produced during the more active years of
life for use in old age and sickness. Hence the neces-
sity was reulii!ed for some unit of vulue to facilitate
the exchunge of products and by means of which
man can not only conveniently supply his wants, but
also be able to lay by the surplus for future use, and
so a unit of value, or measure of vulix , came into use.
This measure of value varied at diffe • >.t times and in

Gatiikrei) Waiflkts.

different couutries, but all may be classed under tlie
generic term, money.

In some countries products of the soil, such as
com, tea and tobacco, were a<lopte(I : in others skins
of animals, shells, human beings as slaves, oil and cat-
tle. Lexicographers tell us that our word "pecuniary"
is derived from the Latin word fecus, cattle. In some
countries, even in our day, commodities are still the
medium of e.\change ; but they have long since been
discarded for such use by nations in touch with the
civiliisation of the nineteenth centurj', and coins made
from the precious metals have taken their place.

Money has been iletiued by a noted American
writer on political ei-onomy and money as "that which
passes freely from hand to hand throughout the com-
munity in final discharge of debts an<l full payment
of commodities, being accepted eciually without refer-
ence to the character or credit of the perscm who offers
it, and without the intention of the person who re<'eives
it to consume it, or to enjoy it, or to apply it to any
other use than in turn to tender it to others in discharge
of debts and payment of commodities."

No more interesting chapter is to Ije found in the
pages of profane history than that wlierein is recorded
the origin of this now very cornniou medium of e.\-
change, its development, and the impetus which it has
given to agriculture, manufactures and commerce, an<l
thrcuigh them to civilization.

Tlie invention of money c(>iue<l from the precious
metals is one of the \ery few great inventions of the
world — an invention that may well be called the father
of commerce. Without mon-y commerce as we know
it would be impossible, am' without commerce one of

Money amd Banking.

the three jfreat levers which move the world upward
to better things would be blotted out.

The vast interchantfe of goods and produets in our
day tn'kufi place so easily — with such facility and great
rapidity -that it seldom occurs to us to ask how it is
■I'^n,". and, if we think of tlie matter at all, we are apt
to conclude that it lias always been so. Hut the anni-
hilation of time and spa<'e and the prodigious develop-
ment of commerce, are practically limited to our own
day— and money lias been a most important contrili-
uting factor.

Herculean enterprises whicli would have astounded
the world, and wliicli would have been pronounced
visionary and impractical but a few genei^ations ago,
are now undertaken and carried to siurcessful issue
without apparent effort — and money is the vivifying
agent. Hospitals of great e.xtent to alleviate human
suffering, halls of learning for the upbuilding and
elevation of humanity, libraries c(mtaining the intel-
lectual treasures of Time, and eleemosynary institutions
to project a ray of sunsliine into tlie lives of the aged
and unfortunate — are among the triumphs of civiliza-
tion, and all made possible by money.

As miglit be supposed, the precious metals weiv
tirst used as a medium of exchange during the old
<'ivilisiation of the lOast, where they were weighed at
each transaction, and they were received and delivered
as 80 much bullion or metal. For many centuries all
the commerce of the lOastern countries was carried on
by this method.

In the pages of sacred and profane history hc
read of the shekels or pounds of gold an<l silver used
in ancient Assyria and i'.abylonia, but while the same

Gathered AVaiflkts.

I I

term is used in the East and some of the countries of
tlie Western world in our day, bullion, or tiie metals
in bulk, is no longer the medium of exchange.

A most important step in advance was taken when
the precious metals were put into circulation in pieces
of uniform fineness, weight and value, duly stamped
with the official seal or coat-of-arms of the country or
city which issued them. This fixity of value greatly
facilitated business transactions and gave great impetus
to commerce. Like many other great adaptations,
inventions and discoveries, it is to-day a disputed ques-
tion wliat nation and people were the first to give
this great improvement in mercantile transactions to
mankind.

Some historians contend that the Lydians made
use of suoli coins si.fteen centuries before the Christian
era, while others claim the honor for the Greeks in
Phociea in lona, who, in the seventh century before
Christ, first conceived the idea of coining money, that
is, making pieces of equal value and stamping on each
piece the city arms, the phoca or seal, thus giving the
warranty of their dominion for the right weight,
fineness and value of these pieces.

The mechanic art in those distant times was but
in embryo, and nowhere was this more in evidence
than in the crude coins produced for circulation as
money, samples of which are to be found in many of
the museums of the world.

Varying much in thickness and contour, no two
being precisely alike, it was an easy matter for those
inclined to dishonesty to pare off a little of the valua-
ble metal here and there, without detection, from the
coins passing through their hands. This evil became

Money and Banking.

very general and extended over centuries, and with-
stood every attempt to suppress it, although the crime
was made high treason in many countries and the
severest and most cruel penalties were meted out to
offenders. Fabulous wealth was accumulated by this
nefarious, thieving practice, and the temptation was
so great as to withstand every effort to suppress it.
Paring and shaving became too slow, and operators
boldly resorted to clipping. This so defaced the coins
that often it was impossible to tell what was their
original value. Impecunious and spendthrift kings,
taking advantage of the fact that clipped coins of less
intrinsic than nominal value circulated at their face or
nominal value, to fill their depleted treasuries resorted
to the robber method of issuing coins with half and
sometimes less than half of the requisite amount of
the precious metal, and forced them upon their unwill-
ing subjects.

Then a very grave practical difficulty arose, which
may be best explained by a very commonplace illus-
tration. Let us suppose that a bushel of wheat and a
pair of shoes to be of equal value and either could be
bought for a certain coin. The farmer having the
wheat to sell does not want the shoes at present, and
the shoemaker having the shoes to dispose of does not
want the wheat for some months to come. Neither is
willing to exchange the product of his labor for a
piece of metal which might not be worth half as much
six months hence, and which would compel either one
then to give twice as much in exchange as would have
been necessary but a few short months before.

This debasement of the currency then, as it al-
ways has since, worked such injury to the mercantile

Qatbebeo Waiflets.

world as to paralyze business and destroy commerce,
leaving behind its blackened trail of stagnation and
ruination as a sorrowful legacy to coming years. Thus,
generations and centuries ago, stability in the currency
based upon its intrinsic value was found to be neces-
sary to avoid excessive fluctuations in values and con-
sequent disorder in the business world. Many now think
that the question of a debased currently never arose to
perplex the people until our day, and that it can be jus-
tified and made helpful to a nation by the sleight-of-
hand of some ignorant sophist or shallow theorist,
forgetting that the issue is as old as that of coinage
itself, that it has always been attended mth deplorable
results, and that only one solution is possible, as those
deeply schooled in the science of political economy and
the great financiers of the world unanimously pro-
claim, and the voice of history abundantly proves.

Macaulay, writing of the times of William the
Third, some 200 years ago, and the debased money
then in circulation, tells, as no other pen has ever told,
the evils resulting therefrom, and his words should
prove a salutary warning to all coming generations.

The evil had grown to such proportions during
the reign of this sovereign that the most heroic meas-
ures were resorted to to put a stop to its further prog-
ress. Laws more stringent than ever were enacted,
and a law was passed prohibiting the circulation of all
coins by tale, and so they were received and paid as in
more primitive times, by weight alone, to the great
loss and ruin oi many. But as a return to old condi-
tions and to old methods is 8 step backw.-- d, and as
improvement and progress never retrace their steps
permanently, a way was found out of the difficulty by

Money and Banking.

making all coins of equal value exactly alike, made
poBsible by improvement and progress in the mechanic
art, and milling the edges or stamping thereon some
motto or legend so that it was impossible to clip or
mutilate them without detection, in which shape we
have them now.

There have always been industrious people of fru-
gal habits who limit their expenditures to an amount
below their income, or, to use a common and well-
understood colloquial phrase, "who lay by something
for a rainy day." To tliese may be added widows,
minors and invalids, as well as a very large class com-
posed of those who are better fitted by nature to serve
others than to manage for themselves, all of whom may
inherit or otherwise come into possession of wealth,
and with growing commerce and advancing civiliza-
tion the volume of currency expanded in proportion
and its proper care and management pressed for a
solution. To carry much wealth about upon the per-
son exposes it to the constant risk of loss by violence
or otherwise, and if hidden away it might be lost by
the sudden death of the owner, by Are, or be stolen by
burglars and robbers; and aside from these and other
risks such vast wealth hoarded would be wholly unpro-
ductive, and while earning nothing for its owners would
be working g" vt injury to the community by di^tllrI^
ing financial distribution and equilibrium.

As it was impractical for each individual to pro-
vide (ire and burglar proof vaults for the adequate
protection of his property, or to engage in financial
business in a<l<lition to his other occupation, so in this,
as in other walks of life, the division of labor solved
the difKculty.

42 Gathkrki) Waiflkts.

A single individual, or an association of individ-
uals, by providing a plac-e of safety could better pro-
tect and care for the surplus earnings of all than each
individual could do for himself; and by loaning this
money to the more entei-prising, as weU as those in
need, the welfare of borrower and lender was not only
promoted, but also that of the whole community, and
so banks and banking came into existence. The term
bank is said to be derived from bancha, a bench, upon
which the money changers sat in bygone years during
the time of fairs or market days.

With the establishment of banks an old element
in society, confidence, became more prominent and of
greater value than had ever previously been accorded
to it, and without which banking as now conducted
would be impossible. M'ithout the certainty that he
could have it whenever he might want it, or at some
stated time mutually agreed upon, no man would en-
trust his money to the keeping of others, and those
receiving it, the bankers, would not loan it to others
unless fully conttdent that it would be paid back at
the end of the term for which it was loaned. Con-
Hdence, therefore, founded upon integrity, is the chief
corner-stone supporting the Hnancial superstructure,
and without this there would be nothing but discord
and chaos in the world of finance and business. Busi-
ness depression and attendant upheavals and failures
resulting therefrom are some of the injuries wrought
by impaired confidence, even in a minor degree, which
many of my hearers have witnessed, and which it is
not necessary for me to enlarge upon now.

There is no business of equal magnitude or impor-
tance BO very generaUy misunderstood, or which is more

MoNKT AND BaNKINO.

violently assailed by the ignorant, shallow-brained
schemers and designing adventurers and tricksters,
who grow not weary howling about the banking
monopoly and the wicked, bloated bond-li.)lders and
financiers. From this ill-favored class and worthless
element in society nothing receives greater criticism
and condemnation than success in the financial world;
and the higher the social standing of him who achieves
it and the greater his success the more violent and
senseless their denunciations ! How anything can
be a monopoly, favored with special and exclusive
privileges, when every one is free to engage therein
under the same conditions, is a question too deep and
too profound for me to understand or explain, and its
solution I will leave to those jaundiced gentlemen who
never made a success of anything which they ever
undertook, but who have abundant advice and criti-
cism to offer to all who Iiave.

Banks and banking, as properly known and under-
stood, may be classed as business (national in the United
States) banks, trust companies, savings banks and co-op-
erative banks — tlie first organized and operated under
national laws in this country and the others under the
state laws of their respective states.

Savings banks having for their principal object to
furnish a safe place for the wage-earner and man of
limited means to deposit surplus earnings, and their
investment being limited by law to very high class
securities to ensure safety, their function and scope
are entirely unlike those of the national banks and
trust companies, and they may more properly be
classed with eleemosynary than banking institutions.
Knowing thut my hearers are more generally interested

':%

Gatiikbki) Waiklkth.

in savings banks than in other flnancial institutic us, I
shall offer no apology for dwelling, later, at greater
length upon their organization, management and func-
tions than upon the others.

Co-operative banks, as their name implies, are
organized for mutual help and advantage. They loan
the money contributed by the members, who purchase
"shares," paying therefor by monthly installments, a
stated amount per month, until the shares reach matu-
rity, or, in other words, until paid for in full. They
limit their business exclusively to members, loaning
their money to the highest bidders therefor in amounts
proportional to the number of "shares" held by such
members.

While these banks are admirably adapted to the
specific purpose for which they are organized, and have
proved of undoubted advantage by encouraging habits
of thrift and economy, by enabling many to own homes
who probably would not have had them otherwise, and
by adding taxable property to the community, yet they
are not at all adapted to the wants of business and
commerce, and it is only by a stretch of language that
they can be classed as banks.

The objects, scope and methods of national banks
and trust companies being substantially the same they
may be considered together, and what is said of one
applies almost as well to the other.

It is true that national banks issue notes payable
on demand, or bank bills as they are commonly called,
and that trust companies do not; but whether there is
or is not any advantage in this is an open question,
many of the leading bankers of the country being on
record in the negative, and many of the lager banks

Money and Bankino. 45

with capital runnintf into the millions having in circu.
lation only a nominal amount of bank notes or bills.

Trust companies usually depart from the specific
lines generally pursued by the national banks in vari-
ous ways, some of which are providing vaults for the
safe keeping of valuables, which are rented to the
public, acting as trustees of estates and of funds set
apart for some specific purpose, acting as transfer agents
of the stock of corporations, as trustees for bonds, guaiv
anteeing bonds, and in many other ways acting as fidu-
ciary agents.

But in the matter of transacting a general bank-
ing business, receiving deposits, discounting notes and
the like, national banks and trust companies may be
regarded as substantiaUy alike, the one competing
with the other for the financial business of the world.
And now we have an-ived at the gateway of one of
the marvels of the nineteenth century— the growth,
development, extent and importance of the banking
interest; where giant minds and brainiest men meet in
the arena in financial centers; where tireless energy
and Herculean endeavor join hands with coolness and
intrepidity; where enterprise, bordering upon rash-
ness, snatches success from out the devouring jaws of
failure.

All this is not true of every bank, for banks are
very human institutions, and like all others they are
characterized by great diflferences;— from the small
bank in the country town, whose volume of business
runs up only to the modest thousands in a year, and
where the work is aU probably performed by the
cashier under the direction of a board of directors, up
to the great metropolitan institutions, the volume of

GaTHKRRD WAIfLKTa.

whoge buiiness not infreqaently mounts ap into mil-
lions daily, and in which greatest ability and skill are
required in their or);anization and manaj^ement to
insure efliciency, promptness and safety.

Here again we find the principle of sub-division of
labor in operation, the work in these vast financial
institutions being sub-divided and devolving upon a
president, vice-president, board of directors, cashier,
assistant cashier and even a second assistant cashier,
receiving teller, paying teller, note teller, financial
rating clerk, call loan clerk, discount clerk, mail clerk,
head bookkeeper, and any number of assistants, sten-
ographers, typewriters, messenger boys, porters, watch-
ii:on and others, all having well defined duties to per-
f'Tin, most of which are evident by the title borne by
the designated oihcial, but which for the want of time I
will not now attempt to explain. I would also bespeak
your forbearance in the same connection while I briefly
touch upon the various instruments falling under the
designation of commercial paper and such as are used
in financial transactions: notes — demand, time, secured
by collr.teral and mortgage; drafts — at sight, ( ime and
with bill of lading; checks — certified, to bearer, to
order, cashier's, certificate of deposit; stocks — com-
mon, preferred, wiih various conditions and stipula-
tions, rights; bonds — debenture, mortgage, coupon, reg-
istered, etc.

Few people not directly interested in banking can
have any adequate idea of the prodigious amount of
exacting labor daily performed in baaking institu-
tions, the clock-like precision with which every trans-
action is handled, and the complete closing up of every
item of business with each day.

MoNKY AND BaNKINO. 47

Such inHtitutiong are the bulwarks of the bubineH
world, must keep in cloHeHt touch with all the peal
fluancial ceuten* of the globe, and be ready to act at
once in emergency to advance or protect its interests,
at the same time giving every attention to detail and
routine, treating its most humble customer with the
same courtesy and attention as it does the millionaire.

Nor is all tiiis anxiety, energy, toil ond responsi-
bility for an hour, a day, a week, for they keep their
ceaseless round as unending as the years in their
course.

It is said that "peace hath its victories no less than
war," and us finance has sent its offspring, cr)mmerce.
to plant its banner upon tlie outposts of civilization,
to elevate and ennoble without the shedding of blood,
is it asking too much to accord a pLice upon the ped-
estal of fame to the mighty ones of finance above that
accorded to the warriors who carried the sword and
flame and did the work of death ami destnictioni

Thus far my remarks have in the main been lim-
ited to the origin of money, its progressive develop-
ment into the form in which we know it, and to banks
organized to receive and render it more available in
the industries and commerce of the world. Such banks
are organized to receive deposits, to issue bank bills —
which are simply notes payable on demand, a great
invention to save the annoyance and risk of carrying
obout cumbrous and heavy weighing specie for use in
commercial transactions — to make loans of money,
which, aside from tlie capital of the bank, is the
money of their depositors, and such other financial
functions as they may be permitted to engage in and
transact under the laws of the country in which they

Oathkrrd Waiflktk.

mre loc-ated. Such bank* are merely joint stock com-
panieg and a« auch are governed, as are others, by a
board of directors, elected by and from the stock-hold-
ers by stock ballot, who in turn elect the president and
and other subordinate otticials.

In this country such corporations differ from
manufacturini;, mercantile, insurance, raining and oth-
ers only in the work transacted and the laws under
which they operate, national banks beini? orj^anized
and operated under national laws, and trust compuniei
and other corporations under the laws of the different
states from which they hold their charters and in which
they operate.

Trust companies have a stated capital, issue stock
therefor, elect their officers as other corporations do,
and transact a general banking business, save that
they are not allowed to issue and ciriMilate as money
their notes payable on demand generally known as
bank bills. In addition to the general work of banks.
trust companies, unlike national banks, are not restric-
ted as to the amount that they may loan to a single
borrower, and they are permitted to engage in many
other lines of financial and fiduciary work that national
banks are not allowed to engage in, such as acting as
trustees for bond-holders, as registrars and transfer
agents for stocks, as underwriters, e.xecutors of wills,
administrators of estates, guardians of minors, etc.

Aside from the fact that savings banks receive
deposits and invest money, they have little else in
common with business banks, sometimes designated
banks of issue — national banks as designated in this
country — or with trust companies. Like trust com-
panies they are organized under and governed by state

MoNKV AMD DaNKINO. 49

Uw» — unlike them they have no capital and in con-
aeiiuence no »took-h<)l(ler«, ami, therefore, no peraonal
interests to promote or nelliKh purponeH to gerve.
The work of their management is lar){ely for others
•nd not for individual profit.

The first formal step taken to organize a savings
bank is the formation of a l»oanl of corporators, com-
posed of men of probity and standing in tlie eoramiin-
ity, who take tlie necessary steps for incorporation.
When a charter is granted a meeting of the corpora-
tors is called wiio elect a board of trustees, wlio in turn
elect a president, treusiirer, board of investment, and
the other officers of tlie bank.

Savings banks are primarily organized to furnish
a place where those of small means and wage-earners
may safely deposit their money — a place whore their
earnings will not be exposed to the ha/jird of loss by
theft, by tire, by being hidden and the place where
secreted forgotten, destroyed, or not made known to
others because of insanity or sudden death — a place
where their money will be safeguarded from thought-
less expenditure, as too often happens when carried
about upon the person, or lost in many other ways.

Another function performed by savings banks, a
function but little less in importance, if any, than the
foregoing, a function little understood and seldom com-
manding a thought from the masses in this wild,
on-rushing and superficial age, is that they serve to keep
vast sums of money in circulation that would otherwise
be hoarded, that a large portion of this money is made
available to many in moderate circumstances who wish
to build and own homes — people who otherwise could
never hope to have this added comfort and blessing.

li J

Gathered Waiflets.

'i''i

The assets of the savings banks in the state of
Massachusetts reach in round numbers the prodigious
amount of $770,0((0,llO().lK». It is worth the bestowal
of a little time to consider what a steadying influence
the careful investment of this vast amount, in conjunc-
tion with that of other states, has upon the financial
world, and what calamity would result from the calling
in of real estate loans by the banks, or its withdrawal
and hoarding by depositors.

There were at the close of the year, October 31,
litlO, over two million depositors in the 192 savings
banks of this state whose cost of management was
less than two hundred and sixty-six one thousandths
of one per cent, of their assets, a record of economical
management not equalled by other financial institu-
tions in this country.

So well are they managed, so well and so zealously
are the interests of their depositors safeguarded, that
less than four ten-thousandths of one per cent, would
pay all losses incurred by depositors for the length-
ened period of the past seventy years — a record unap-
proached in any other walk in life. And yet with all
this ability in management and frugality in expendi-
ture there are those in this dissatisfied and speculative
age who grumble because larger dividends are not
paid — people who apparently put risk above secu-
rity — people who do not understand the functions of
savings banks, or the purposes for which they are
organized.

Perhaps I cannot do better here than to enter very
briefly upon an explanation of this matter. This I will
proceed to do by using the words of an able and
respected bank commissioner of our state, now de-

Money and Bankixo.

Appealing to him to learn why the scope of
investments, which savings banks were allowed to
make, was not extended bo as to include a greater
range, I was asked:

"What forS Is not the present list ample to
absorb all the money you have for such investments?"
I made reply that it was, but that if it was extended
it might include securities that would pay better inter-
est or dividends than those that the banks were now
permitted to invest in. Divining that my purpose
was that the bank with which I have the honor to be
connected might, as well as others, thereby be enabled
to increase its dividends, he said:

"No, we cannot admit to the list of securities in
which the money of savings banks may be invested
anything of a doubtful or uncertain character, no mat-
ter what interest or dividend it pays. You are to
remember that the primary function of a savings bank
is to safely keep the money deposited with it, and to
be able to give it back to the depositors wiienever
called for.

"The dividends paid are another and all together
different and subordinate matter. Of course, if the
money can be safely invested so as to return the depos-
itor a little more than was deposited, well and good;
but no speculative inducement or promise of large divi-
dends should ever be held out to secure deposits.
When statistics show that ninety-five per cent, of all
who engage in business fail, most of whom lose their
all, let those not content with the dividends paid take
their money and invest it themselves, when perhaps
they may learn, when it is too late, that security is
better than the promise of great returns. And, again.

Gathkred Waiflets.

the savings banks should not pay such large dividends
as will attract the deposits of the wealthy who wish to
participate in good dividends while shirking the tax
collector and the care, risk and responsibility of the
management of their wealth."

This so succinctly and cogently summarizes the
basic principles wliich underlie the savings banks of
our state that it is unnecessary for me to add a word
thereto.

It would, however, be a startling revelation to
many were the individuals and numbers known of
those who hearkened to the voice of the tempter and
withdrew their deposits from sayings banks, allured
by seductive promises and finely engraved and printed
literature and the promise of big dividends, to invest
in wild^jat ventures only to lose all and repine when
it was too late.

Others in their pride, ignorance, or thoughtless-
ness, think it a great favor to a bank to make a deposit
therein, unmindful of or forgetting the fact that it is
the bank that is doing them a service for which they
should be gratefuL The aggregate of small deposits
enables the bank to make advantageous loans that indi-
vidual depositors could never make for themselves,
and being looked after sharply by capaole and experi-
enced men, and safeguarded by the laws of the state,
it requires do profundity of learning or deep discern-
ment to understand which is most benefitted.

Another class there is who fail to understand and
realize that the interest of the one is the interest of
both — people who carry their money about with them
and refuse to deposit it until the quarter day arrives
when they flock to the bank with their money. This

Money and Banking.

savors of ignorance or sharp practice, or botli. It never
seems to occur to them that it may be weeks and it may
be months before the bank can place the money to earn
the dividend that they expect and be woefully disap-
pointed not to receive. Should this wrong grow or be
unduly persisted in a remedy may have to bo sought
by appealing to the legislature to enact such a law that
no deposit in a savings bank should be allowed to
go on interest until thirty days after it had been re-
ceived — a very reasonable time in which to invest it

Another class are in evidence in savings banks
loaded with inquiries about th« management, about
dividends, what will the bank pay, etc., — not knowin^^
or forgetful of the fact tha. all that is earned after pro-
viding for the guaranty fund in accordance with the
laws of the state, the expenses of management, which
have been shown to be infinitesimally small — less than
one-fourth of one per cent of their assets — and the tax
imposed by the state, are returned as dividends to
the depositors, and that this may so vary that no
human foresight can predict what the future may
bring forth.

Nor are borrowers at savings banks blameless or
beyond criticism. Many there are who pose as lead-
ing citizens, even as philanthropists, if you will, some
seated in the chair of authority, and others in various
walks of life, who go up and down the highways of
finance striving to cajole and brow-beat officers of
banks and banking houses in their attempt to obtain
bargain-counter rates of interest and lessen the earn-
ings upon the money of the hard working and small
depositors. Often these people, if depositors instead
of borrowers, would be the first, loudest and longest to

Hit

Gathebrd Waiflets.

clamor for greater dividends which as borrowerg they
strive to diminish.

The savings banks of Massachusetts have paid
into the treasury of the state upwards of $70,000,000.00
as tax since it was first levied in 1862, an amount ex-
ceeding the total cost of management of the banks by
upwards of twenty-eight millions of dollars. To many
these startling figures will come as a surprise, and
they will help to explain why depositors are not paid
greater dividends. When our state puts such a bur-
den upon the wage-earner — as most of the depositors
are, and so deliberately discourages habits of economy
and thrift — it would seem as if it had abdicated the
legitimate functions of a state and joined the ranks of
aggrandizing individuals and corporations.

This species of taxation came into vogue during
the Rebellion of 18t)l-,5 to replenish the treasury to
meet the needs of an expensive, extensive and lengthy
war. The conditions that gave it birth no longer exist
nor have for years, and this burdensome tax imposed
upon the toilers of the state cannot be too soon re-
moved or reduced. Some of the time now given by
the legislature to freak and worthless legislation might
better be given to a matter that direi,cly affects the
welfare of nearly two millions of depositors and indi-
rectly every citizen of the state.

THE PROVINCE OF QUEBEC AND ITS
PEOPLE.

An AODRESH DeLIVEUED REKCBE THE ABBOCIATE BoABO OF

Trimity College, Wo&ckstek. Mass., Monday

EVENINO, UeCEUBER 14, 1903.

DESPITE the works of History, the labors of
Historical Societies, hand boohs of travel, the
array of summer tourists, and the wonderful
enterprise of the newspaper world, the old saying that
"not one-half of the world knows, how the other half
lives" is almost as true to-day as it was in the distant
past

Stretching away to the north of the New England
States and beyond is the Province of Quebec, a coun-
try that is a veritable terra incognita to the masses of
their neighbors to the south, the people of the United
States. To the great mtjority of these the name re-
calls only a very limited territory where winter reigns
during the greater part of the year, devoid of interest,
and peopled with an unprogressive if not a very inferior
race — a down-trodden people whose rights are denied
them by an exacting and oppressive government be-
yond the seas.

A little time given to a consideration of this portion
of the western hemisphere — -its extent, physical char-
acteristics, history, and the everyday life of the peo-
ple — may not be without interest and value while

I :

f if i

Gatherko WxlFLKTa

serving to make neighbors better acquainted with
each other and appreciated. A little reflection and
thoughtful consideration will also teach lessons of tol-
eration and justice to the residents and law-making
powers in the United States, the boasted hind of "free-
dom, equal rights and justice," but where in many
things these high sounding and seductive claims are
not so happily exemplitied as in the less pretentious
country north of the forty-fifth parallel of latitude.

Within the bounds of the Province of Quebec is
embraced a territory many times larger than all New
£ngland, a territory rich and varied in scenic beauty
and grandly picturesque. The Appalachian range of
mountains extends into the eastern portion of the prov-
ince, and the Laurentian chain stretches away for hun-
dreds of miles in the northern part, contributing variety
and grandeur to the whole country.

Lakes are scattered in abundance throughout the
Province, which gem tho landscape and primeval for-
est, and which well reward the tourist, artist and
sportsman by their beauty, extent and wealth of
gamest fish. Lake St. John, having an area of 260
square miles, is the largest Temiscamingue is ne.\t
with an area of 126 square miles, besides numerous
others of smaller size and lesser importance.

The mighty St. Lawrence, ranking with the largest
rivers of the world, after leaving the Great Lakes and
the awe-inspiring Niagara Falls, lends a charm to
the Thousand Islauds, and cuts in twain the south-
eastern portion of the country through which its
mighty volume of waters flow in a north-easterly direc-
tion for hundreds of miles until lost in the ocean be-
yond. It has as principal tributaries the Ottawa, tiOO

The Province of Quebec and Its People. 57

miles long; the Ste. Maurice, 400 miles long; the
Richelieu, which is the outlet of Lake Champlain ; the
famed Saguenay, which performs a similar service for
Lake St John and the country beyond ; and many oth-
ers of lesser note.

Most of these rivers abound in scenery unsui^assed
elsewhere, and in cascades and waterfalls that prove a
revelation, surprise and delight to the beholder. The
Falls of Shawinegan in the Ste. Maurice, 24 miles
above Three Rivers, are l.iO feet high; the Falls of
the Montmorency, H miles from Quebec, are 2.50 feet,
and the rocky gorge through which the Saguenay
pours its turbulent waters for a hundred miles, is start-
ling in its almost perpendicular elifla of rock which
kiss the clouds, and wliich in majesty, grandeur and
extent are without a rival in the world.

In the more nortiiern parts the extensive forests,
stretching away to the land of perpetual winter, fur-
nish a home for an abundance of large game — bear,
deer, caribou and moose — which is eagerly sought by
sportsmen of this and foreign countries for the pleas-
ure and benefit which reward such adventure and com-
muning with nature, and also by the hunters and
trappers of the Hudson Bay Fur Company and the
Courier de Bois, for the peltry, which commands good
prices and meets with ready sale in the fur markets of
the world. They also furnish employment and re-
munerative wages to vast numbers of people who are
employed in getting out timber and lumber for domes-
tic need and export, and in more recent times for wood
pulp, which has revolutionized the paper making of
the world.

Throughout the southern portion the climate is mild

GaTHRRKD WAIFLBTa

and salubrious, the soil is stronf; and rich, and nearly
all the varieties of fruit, vegetables and cereals of the
New England states are successfully cultivated. With
increased population, and the passing of the fur bear-
ing animals in the older settled portion of the Prov-
ince, farming became the principal occupation of the
people outside cities and the more populous centres.
JSurplus hay, horses, cattle, butter, lumber and other
products of land and forest found a ready market in
t' u United States in exchange for te.xtile goods, agri-
cultural implements, and other manufactured articles,
until the termination of the Reciprocity treaty between
the two countries in A. D. 1S0.5, after the close of the
civil war in the United States, when duties were im-
posed upon merchandise passing from one country into
the other.

During the existence of this treaty ther^ was devel-
oped a very close bond of interest and friendship be-
tween the people of the two countries, and the senti-
ment in favor of annexation was deep and wide spread;
but on its termination in 1 86.5 a new policy was adopted
and developed by the people of Canada and all this is
now changed.

The termination of the Reciprocity treaty paved the
way for and led up to the Confederation of the Prov-
inces into the Dominion of Canada, the establishment of
foreign markets, and of factories for the production of
the various goods, tools and merchandise previously
purchased in the United States. This has proved so
successful and advantageous for the people, and has so
fostered and stimulated a national spirit, that now but
very few if any will be found to favor, much less advo-
cate union with the United States.

The Provincb of QfEBEO and Its People. 59

In ai^ricnltural districts, particularly in the Eastern
Townships, much attention is now given to the manu-
facture of cheese of very superior quality, large quan-
tities of which are exported and find a ready sale in
the markets of England and on the Continent.

To properly understand anil appreciate the condi-
tions, customs ami practices which now obtain in rural
communities in the older settled parts of tlie Province
where the descendants of the original settlers over-
whelmingly predominate, which so savor "f medieval-
ism, and which appear so quaint and fascinating to
the outside world, it will be desirable to go back to
the early days of authentic history and sketch in out-
line some of the leading events connected with the ex-
ploration, colonization, and the establishment of gov-
ernment in this northern portion of the New World.

In enterprise, daring and success France led the way.
So far as available records go they prove that the
portion of Canada (by which name at one time all the
British possessions in North America were designa-
ted) now known as the Province of Quebec, was
discovered during the early years of the Sixteenth Cen-
tury by Jacques Cartier, who sailed up the St. Law-
rence river in A. D. l.'iH.'), before Puritanism was
known in the world, and nearly one hundred years be-
fore the Puritans set foot upon the soil of America.
He made othei voyages the following and subsequent
years, when he devoted more time to exploration and
acquiring a knowledge of the country and its strange
people. Other French explorers subsequently visited
these shores before the coming of Samuel de Cham-
plain in A. D. 1608, who established a colony at Sta-
dacona, where the City of Quebec now is.

Ill

GitTIIRKKU WaIPLRTM.

The heart of France then thrill>«d with missionary
zeal and many devotetl priests acc-oropanied these col-
onists to impart the blessin^fs of relif(ion, spiritual
comfort, and gui'iHuce. Many missionaries of noble
birth and liif^host uttainnieutH also left behind station
and place in tlieir native land an<l devoted their lives
to the elevation of the red man from the depths of
paganism anti idolatry to the heights of Christianity.
These apostolic men, in obedience to the command of
the Master, buried themselves in the wilderness and
spent the rest of their lives amid scenes of 8<)ualor and
filth, in deprivation and suffering, even heroically
meeting death in the discharge of their sacred duties.
Words are not necessary to add to the pathos of such
lives as are recorded in the "Jesuit Itelations" by the
pen of Rev. Ennemond Masse, 8. J. : " This life is
without order an<l without daily fare, without bread,
without salt, and often without anything; always
moving on and changing; in the wind, in the air, and
in bad weather; for a roof, a wretched cabin; for a
couch, the earth ; for rest and quiet, odors, cries and
songs ; for medicine, hunger and hard work."

They sought not the plaudits of men, yet the pens
of our greatest historians and poets have embalmed
their memory in the minds and hearts of a grateful
posterity, and recorded their heroic achievements for
God and civilization upon the brightest pages of his-
tory and literature. The heroic deeds, sacrifices and
sufferings of Le Caron, Brebouf, Daniel, Lallemant,
J; nes, liasles, and unnumbered others of their com-
panions, together with the devotion, privation and toil
of the sainted women who sacrificed all that the world
holds dear to aid in the good work, are as a luminous

The Provinok or Qdebko axd Ith People. 61

cloud of inspiration, triumph »nd glory, wb'ch will
continue to reflect lustre upon their nationality, their
religion and their adopted country until the end of
time.

The colonists brought with them deep religious
conviction and love for the Church of their fathers, in
which they were born and reared. To them a good
life was more important than honors and riches. In
their every day life they exemplified the Christian
virtues and squared their conduct by the Golden
Rule. When differences arose between them they
were usually settled by arbitration, or by their parish
priest and spiritual guide, and such decisions were
cheerfully accepted as final without violence to Chris-
tian charity. However humble their lot, they ever
strove to make their Church attractive and worthy the
Divine Presence. They could not afford marble stat
uary for its adornment, and so casts frorj the works
of the masters, of the Holy Family, an Apostle, patron
saint, or other religions subjects, v/ere procured to em-
bellish it and make its teachings more realistic and
lasting. During the winter season, and in the far
north where natural flowers could not be obtained,
artificial flowers were substituted for decorating the
altitr. No effort was spared to follow the full and
beautiful ceremonial of the Church according to the
Roman ritual, as well as the customs of the Church in
motherland, and many of these are faithfully ob-
served by their descendants and successors to this
day, some of which will be noticed later.

The enterprise and success of the people of France
in colonization in North America, and of other nations
in other parts of the Western Hemisphere, aroused the

GATIIEKrO Waiflktb.

jesloasy of Enf(l«n<l and stimulated to activity the
national traits of arrogfance, conquest, af^j^randizemeiit
and domination. The people of Knjtland at that
time were so far behind in the race with the nations
of Continental Kurope, and so little understood the
work of successful colonization, which they were
prompted to undertake throui^h jealousy because of
the success of other nations, that tlmir Hrst attempts
in Maine, Massachusetts and \'ir)i;inia were rank fail-
ures. The Knglish settlers seemed better fitted for
the life of pirates and the practice of robbery, rapine
and bloodshed than the less exciting and more liumane
life of the colonists from other countries. In this day
of civilization and enli);htenment, when so much in-
cense is burned at the shrine of Anglo-Saxonism, this
may seem to some a bold and unwarranted charge, but
an appeal to the historj- of the times will amply verify
its truthfulness.

We have only to recall the Royal robberies of the
times — Cathedrals, Monastarics, educational and elee-
mosynary institutions and others — and the bloody his-
tory of the fleets of piratical vessels (itted out in
England to prey upon the commerce of the world, the
brutality of the buccaneers of which Claud Duval,
Jack Cade and Captain Kind are types, and the blood-
curdling records of a Coote, Child, Drake, Hawkins
and lialeigh — some of whose piratical triumphs were
shared with royalty and were rewarded with the hon-
ors of knighthood — to realize a striking picture of the
times, and of the ethics governing and animating
those seated in high places of government, and even up-
on the throne itself. For the present we must be con-
tent with the testimony of an English historian who

The Provinck or Qdmmi and It* Pkoplk. 63

will not b« kccuaed of biu or prejudice, but who un-
like too many of his Bucceason who endeavor to
apologize for, explain away, or altogether omit the
unpalatable truths of the times, has the honesty to ad-
mit them in all their repulsive bideousness.

After going into the subject of pirates and piracy
in England to very considerable length, the vast
amounts realissei) tiierefrom, and the adulation and
h(mor8 heaped upon the successful marauders and mu^
derers, Mauaulay say.^ :

"The Indian Ucean, meanwhile, swarmed with
pirates of whose rapacity and cruelty frightful stories
were told. Many of these men, it was said, came from
the North American Colonies, and carried back to
these colonies the spoils gained by crime. Even the
Puritans of New Eugland, who in sanctimonious aus-
terity snrpasHcd even their brethren in Scotland, were
ai'cused of conniving at the wickedness."

This quotatiou also throws an interesting side light
upon the character of some of the New England colo-
nists now so generally praised and even apotheosiised.

Jealous of the growth of the French colonies, and
of the success of the black-robe in converting the abo-
rigines to Christianity, the British colonists were ever
on the alert to discover opportunity for plunder, when
an unprovoked attack would be made. The mis-
sionary being the special object of their hatred was
treated with great indignity and not infreiiuently
slain, the people butchered, the settlement robbed,
and what could not be carried away was given to the
flames.

It is worthy of note that in the first conflict between
the English and French on this continent the English

Gathered Waiflets.

were the aggressors. In 1613 the manrading free-
booter, Argall, sailed from Virginia to the coast of
Maine, where he attacked and destroyed the French
settlement of Ste. Savenr, now Mount Desert, killing
Brother Gabriel dn Thet, and giving to the flames
such booty as he could not carry away. Thus was
shed the first blood that flowed so copiously and
crimsoned the soil through so many subsequent years
as a result of bigoted intolerance and unreasoning hate.
Later writers have endeavored to apologize for if not
condone the crime of Argall by saying that he was but
one of the common herd of freebooters and outlaws of
the time, without authority for the marauding expedi-
tion, and that his conduct would not be approved by
those in authority. To prove that this is but special
pleading, untruthful and in harmony with the attempt
very generally made during all the years since to gloss
over the noted short comings and crimes of the early
English settlers in this country, we have but to recall
the facts that Argall, in obedience to the orders of liis
superiors, soon afterwards plundered and destroyed the
French settlements at Ste. Croix, Port Royal, and other
places, and that when he returned to England later he
was rewarded by being appointed Deputy Governor of
Virginia in 1617, succeeding to the office of Governor
soon after.

Such brutality and devastation was continued during
many generations without interruption or remon-
strance from those charge<l with the affairs of govern-
ment, and too often it was instigated by them, but we
must be content with the recital of one other instance,
not only because of its fiendish atrocity but also be-
cause it had its origin and endorsement in the state of

Thb Province of Qukbec and Its People. 65

Massachusetts, to which honor and praise is now so
generally and bountifully given.

In A. D. 1646, at the earnest solicitation of the Ab-
naki Indians, Father Gabriel DruiUettes, S. J., was sent
by his Superior from Sillery near Quebec to establish
a Mission on the river Kennebec.

He left Sillery August 29, 1646, for his destination,
and so far as known to history he was the first white
man who ever penetrated the unbroken wilderness from
the St Lawrence into the wilds of central Maine. He
journeyed to his destination by the same waterways in
part traversed by Benedict Arnold and his detachment
of Continental soldiers to attack Quebec more than one
hundred years afterwards, and which were then well
known. He located at Narantsouk, now Norridge-
wock, where he erected his mission cross and was soon
surroundei! by a large congregation of peaceful con-
verts and neophytes.

This Mission was continued very successfully for
nearly eighty years, when the Missionary then in
charge was butchered and the Mission destroyed by
zealots from the English Colonists of Massachusetts.

The New England Courant, August 24th, 1 724, says :
"On Saturday last arrived Captain Johnson Harman
from his expedition against the Indians at Norridge-
wock, and brought with him 28 scalps, one of which is
Father Rasles, their priest"

And in "Massachusetts Council Records," VoL 8,
page 71-2, and "Westbrook Papers," page l.")."), we read:

"At a Council held at the Council Chamber in Bos-
ton, on Saturday, August 22, 1724, Present:

"His Honor William Dummer, Esq., Lt Gov. Penn
Townsend, Add. Davenport, Adam Winthrop, Nathan

Gathered "Waiflets.

Bjrfleld, Esqrs., John Ckrk, Esq., Daniel Oliver, Esq.,
Edward Bromlleld, Thomas Fiteh, Captain Johnson
Harman being arrived from the Eastward with Indian
scalps, together with the scalp of Sebastian Kalle, the
Jesuit and Missionary among the Norridgewock Indi-
ans and the Standard of y' Sd Tribe of Indians, was
directed to attend in Council, and there gave a short
narrative of his march to Norridgewock (with four
Companies of Soldiers under his command) and of his
action at the Sd Place, the twelfth instant, where he
destroyed a great number of the enemy, many of whom
being slain or drowned in the river, he could not re-
cover their bodies.

"His Honor, the Lieutenant Governor, in consider-
ation of the extraordinary service of j'* Sd Captain
Harman, presented him with a Commission for Lieu-
tenant Colonel of his Majesty's forces eastward under
the command of ColL Thomas Westbrook. Coll. John-
son Harman made solemn oath that the twenty-seven
scalps above mentioned (which were produced in
Council) were the scalps of rebel or enemy Indians
slain by him and the forces under his command, and
that they had taken four Indian prisoners.

"Pursuant to the Act, entitled an Act to encourage
the persecution of the enemy and rebels :

"Advised and consented that a warrant be made out
to the treasurer to pay unto y* Sd. Coll. Johnson Har-
man, the sum of four hundred and Ave pounds for
twenty-seven Indian scalps, and the further sum of
twenty pounds for four Indian prisoners slain and
taken as aforesaid; y' Sd sum to be by him distrib-
ted to the officers and soldiers concerned therein, as y*
Sd Act directs.

The Province of Quebec and Its People. 67

"ColL Johnson Harman likewise made oath that
the other scalp was that of Sebastian BaUe, a Jesuit,
who appeared at the head of the Indians and obsti-
nately resisted the forces, wounding seven of the Eng-
lish and resolutely refusing to give or take quarter."

Pursuant therefore to a resolve of the General As-
sembly passed at their session begun and held the 13th
of July, 1720, in the words following, viz.:

"This Court being credibly informed that Mons.
lialle, the Jesuit residing among the Eastern Indians,
has not only on several occasions of late affronted His
Majesty's Government of this Province, but has also
been the incendiary that has instigated and stirred up
these Indians to treat His Majesty's subjects settling
there in the abusive, insolent, hostile manner that they
have done.

"Resolved, that a premium of one hundred pounds
be allowed and paid out of the Public Treasury to any
persons that shall apprehend y* Sd Jesuit within any
part of this Province and bring him to Boston and
render him to justice.

"Advised and consented that warrant be made out
to the treasurer to pay unto y* Sd ColL Johnson Har^
man the above Sd sum of one hundred pounds for his
service in the destruction of y* Sd Sebastian Ralle,
y* Sd sum to be divided among the officers and sol-
diers, as 13 directed in the Act for encouraging the
persecution of the Indian enemy, etc."

Such was the exx)erienee, and too often such was the
fate, of the devoted missionary, fired with religious
zeal, who left kith and kin and sacrificed all the allure-
ments of the world to bring the light of the gospel and
the blessings of civilization to the savages in the wil-

lilt

•J I

Gathered Waiflets.

demese — and such is a picture of the bigotry and intol-
erance of the times — the malevolence of the people,
and an illustration of the perversion of history.

France meanwhile pushed the work of exploration,
evangelization andcolonization — her conquests of peace,
Christianity and civilization extended westward to the
Mississippi, south to the Gulf of Mexico, and in the
far north as far as Hudson Bay, whither the Kev.
Charles Albanel, 8. J., another of the heroic band of
devoted missionaries, accompanied by two companions
and six Indians, made a tour of exploration and obser-
vation in A. D. 1671-2, going overland through an
nnbroken wilderness from Quebec, to learn the nature
of the otrjntry, the number of the aborigines, their
habits, disposition and needs. Such enterprise and
success stimulated the worst passions of the English
people, who continued to meet this conquest of peace
and Christianity with determined opposition, persecu-
tion, and open warfare, which were persisted in from
their earliest settlement in the country until victory
crowned their efforts by the overthrow of France upon
this continent in A. D. 17.')9 on the plains of Abraham,
which was ratified and confirmed by the Treaty of
Paris in A. D. 1763.

Meanwhile the persecuting people of the British col-
onies were in turn made to feel the iron heel of des-
potism of the Mother Country, but less for religious
hate and animosity than for revenue, aggrandizement
and dominion, and this led to rebellion and bloodshed
a few years later in 177.*>. At this juncture in their
affairs the people of the thirteen colonies in revolt
very naturally supposed that the people of Canada,
smarting under the sting of recent defeat and over-

The Province of Qdebeo and Its People. 69

throw, would join with them to combat a common
enemy. England, fearing this and to conciliate them
and win their friendship and aid, as a matter of policy
and not of principle, enacted the "Quebec Act," which
many statesmen consider the greatest act of diplomacy
ever recorded upon the pages of history. Under its
conditions the original settlers in Canada were guaran-
teed all the rights and privileges, civil and religious,
hitherto enjoyed by them under the fostering and pro-
tecting laws of France, save allegiance to the Crown —
in fact creating an anomaly among the governments
of the world, a British dependency under the I'sligion,
laws, language and customs of her bitterest enemy and
rival — rights and privileges which were openly de-
nounced, violently opposed, and denied to Catholics —
even at the expense of life itself — in the British Isles
and other British dependencies where the iniquitous
penal laws were still in force in all their barbarous
cruelty and repulsiveness.

While this restoration of rights had a re-assuring
and conciliating effect upon the people of Canada, and
tended to win their friendship and allegiance to the
crown of England, the motive that prompted it was
apparent to alL

Writers of the time assert that the Canadian^ were
in hearty sympathy with the work undertaken i the
revolted colonists to throw off the galling yoke of
England, and that they would very probably have co-op-
eruted with them to aid in driving the Union Jack and
all that it symbolizes, from the Northern Hemisphere,
ending British dominion therein, and extending the
boundary of the United States to the most northern
limit of the continent, but for the restraining influence

Gathered WAiFLETa

of their clergy and the renewed ontbreak of bigotry
and intolerance with which the revolted colonists de-
nounced the enactment and promulgation of the Que-
bec Act, and which found noisy expression in their
broadsides, pamphlets, meeting-houses, and public
gatherings throughout the colonies. This recrudes-
cence of proscription, intolerance, bigotry and hate
was already crystalized into law in many of the colonies
where it was a penal offence for a Catholic priest to
enter, and even a capital offence if he performed any
of his sacred functions. Granting their rights to the
people of Canada by England by the Quebec Act in-
tensified this feeling and led to violent opposition and
protest on the part of the colonists, whose bigotry,
intolerance and iniquitous laws against Catholics were
well known in Canada. Many students of history now
recognize the enactment and promulgation of this Act
as the chief cause, if not the only cause, in the last
analysis, which precipitated the contest and resort to
arms on the part of the colonists against the mother
country, and as the astute measure which secured Can-
ada and all the vast territory embraced under this
name to the British crown.

The records of this blind, unreasoning bigotry and
hate which now in a more enlightened and tolerant
age seem so out of place, and which cost the revolted
colonists the loss of a valuable ally, large quantities
of much needed military stores, and vast territory, are
not now often allowed to see the light of day, and
they will have to be sought with difficulty hidden
away in the archives of the distant past

In the Suffolk County (Mass.) resolves sent to the
Continental Congress which assembled in Philadel-

Tub Province of Qcebeo and Its People. 71

phia in 1774, we read: "That the eBtablisbinent of
the Roman Catholic religion and French law in Can-
ada ia dangerous in the extreme to the Protestant relig-
gion and the civil rights and liberties of all America.
Therefore we are obliged to take all proper measures
for our security."

And this congress when it assembled in Philadel-
phia appointed a committee consisting of Lee, Living-
ston and ,Tay, to frame an address to the people of
England stating their position and grievances and
demanding a remedy. The notorious bigot, John Jay,
whose descendants inherit and manifest his bigotry
and intolerance whenevei opportunity offero even down
to this day, was made chairman of this committee, and
to him was assigned the work of drafting the address.
lie could not let such a good opportunity pass without
incorporating in ami giving e.xpression to the general
outcry against the Quebec Act, which was so in har^
mony with his ignorance, bigotry and malevolence,
which he did in the following language :

" Nor can we suppress our astonishment that a Brit-
ish Parliament should ever consent to establish in that
country a Religion that has deluged your island in
blood and dispersed Impiety, Bigotry, Persecution,
Murder and Rebellion through every part of the
World."

Nor can the Congress which approved and author-
ized the transmission of such sentiments and brazen
falsehood be held less culpable or blameworthy; and
yet, in their hour of trial and distress, these same men
and their compatriots were not slow to send Franklin
and the Catholic Carroll to seek the aid of Catholic
France, without which they and their cause must have

S411

■ *|ii

Oathkked Waiflbt*.

suffered iffnoniinioui defeat, and there woald now be
no United States to embellish the map of the world.

Facing snch hostile speech and sentiment, is it anj
wonder that the people of Canada refused to hearken
to the appeal of Franklin, Chase and Carroll, who were
sent to them as a committee to secure their friendly
co-operation? Is it any wonder that they refused to
take up arms for a people who were so openly and
avowedly hostile to them and their religion ?

It is true that soon after the promulgation of the
Quebec Act, and the use of such violent epithets
against it to the crown and people of England with-
out avail, as the time drew near for resort to arms
the Continental Congress prepared an "Address to
the Inhabitants of Quebec," a portion of which is
reproduced to show the change of tone in a very short
space of time, and to emphasize the duplicity of
human nature:

" What is offered you by the late Act of Parliament

Liberty of Conscience in your religion ? No. God
gave it to you and the temporal powers with which
you have been and are connected finally stipulated for

your enjoyment of it An insolent Ministry

persuade themselves that you wiU engage to take up
arma by becoming tools in their hands, to assist them
in taking that freedom from us treacherously denied

to you We are too well acquainted with the

Liberality of Sentimen: 'listinguishing your nation to
imagine that difference of Religion will prejudice you
against a hearty Amity with us."

And again lateranother Address was sent from which
the following extracts are taken : " We percei ved the
fate of the Protestant and Catholic Colonies to be

TlIK PlloviXCE OK Ql'EBEC AND 1t» PbOPLK. V:!

Btrungly linked toK<'tlici', uiiil tiiercfore invite you to
join witli us in rcHolving to be Free, uuil in I'ejucting,
with ili»<lain, tlic Fetters of Slavery, however artfully
jtolishetl. . . . The eiijoynient of your very religion,
ill the present system, ilepends on a Legislature in
whicli you have no Share, iind over whieli you liave no
Control, and your Priests are exposed to Expulsion,
Banishment, and Ruin, whenever their Wealth and
Possessions furnisli sufficient Temptation. We are
your friends, not your enemies."

And another attempt was made in Novenil)er, 177o,
when the Congress appointed Livingston, Paine and
Langilon Connnissioners to secure tlieir friendly alli-
ance. Some of their instructions were: " You may
assure them that we shall hohl their rights us dear as
our own. Vou may and are liereliy empowered to de-
clare that we hold saered the rights of Conscienee, and
that we shall ni^ver molest them in the free enjoyment
of their religion."

But all elforts to seduce them from their loyalty to
the British crown proved fruitless. They were iloubt-
less continued in their loyalty by tin; teaching of their
church, whicli makes it a grievous sin to rebel against
lawfully constituted authority, by their want of eonti-
dence in the professions of tlieir hitherto persecutors
and oppressors, and by the restoration of their rights
secured to them by that greatest Act of Diplomacy —
the (Quebec Act. To this Great Britain doubtless owes
her vast possessions in the Northern Hemisphere of
the Western world today — a territory greater in area
than that of the United States.

This far seeing legislation, which was so out of
harmony with the bigotry, intolerance, injustice, and

OATalBID WAIVLITi.

perseontion of the times, was presented in tlie Hon**
of Lords by Lord Dartmouth, May 2, 1774, and wai
passed withont opposition May 17.

In the House of Commons it was violently assailed,
but being a royal measure and demanded by the exig-
ences then confronting the country all opposition was
without avail and it passed that body June 13, 1774,
received the royal assent June 22 following, and is
known in law as 14 Qeo. Ill, Cap. 83. It was to go and
went into effect in Canada May 1, 1775.

A few ultra-British writers of uur own time, blinded
by prejudice and who live in the distant past, strive
in vain to prove that England was then actuated solely
by a desire to fulfil treaty obligations, that the mut-
terings of insubordination, discontent and threats of
the neighboring colonies — which soon after resulted in
open warfare and independence— were not an impelling
motive, that the government of England— King, Lords
and Commons — were imbeciles, and that the enactment
and promulgation of the Act was a great mistake from
which England has never recovered.

Becalliug the many violated treaties recorded against
England in the pages of history, which with other
things huve euraed for her the uucomplimeutary title
of pertidious Albion — her iniquitous, brutal and bru-
talizing penal laws in force elsewhere in her dominions
against the co-religionists of the Canadians, the need
she hud for a friendly people in this distant land and
a friendly harbor to land her army and military stores
and the concensus of history bearing upon the subject,
we may dismiss this as only another testimony to the
intense morbid intolerance and prejudice, long since
crystallized into a national trait, which warps the judg-

The Phuvince or Qi'Ebec ani> Its I'f.opi-f.. Ti'i

ment uixl rt'iulitrs mi iiiipiirtial iiiiil judicial coiisidcrn-
tion of tlie fuct.s of history iiiiposHibk", and now .sm'li
attempt to prove tliat Knuland was tlu-n governed by
foolH needs no otlier answer tlian "tliere are none so
blind as those who will not see," and none so i>;norant
as those who refuse to learn.

Soon after the conriuest, French rniif^ration having
practically oeasid, Kn^land made great efforts to sup-
plant the French population by liberally subsidizing
emigration and sending over large numbers of British
emigrants, but they being intolerant and full of bitter-
nefc.j toward the religion of the inhabitants, as many,
very many of their descendants continue to the pres-
ent time, as is too painfully evident, they would not
locate amongst nor near the French settlers in the
older portions of the country along the St. Lawrence
River, but betook tlieinselves to that portion of tin-
country now known as the Province of Ontario.

.\fter the close of the war of the Revolution a con-
siderable number of the Uuteli settlers of New Amster-
dam, deserters from the ranks of the Hessian mer-
cenaries, escaped jtrisoners, and other adventurous
colonists who sw.dled their nund)ers, emigrated to
Canada, where they sought and obtained generous
bounty — upwards of !f:i,"),0()O,O00.0(), vast areas of land
and political preferment — us a panacea for their
loyalty and enterpiise. These latter soon after organ-
ized under the name of the United Empire Loyalists,
which organization their descendants still find it profit-
able to perpetuate.

Such a people could not long renuun in contentment
ment under existing laws, and being turbulent and res-
tive, they so pestered and annoyed the home govern-

Oatbuio WAiruta.

ment with oomplaint and ifflportunity for a leparate
govemment and different laws that they brought about
the division of Canada in 1791 into two parts, which
were then named Lower Canada and Upper Canada,
and a separate parliament was constituted in the latter
when the British code became their law, the people of
Lower Canada remaining under their then existing
form of govemment.

Agitation and discontent succeeded agitation and
discontent in Upper Canada, and envious of the greater
progress and success of the people of the older prov-
ince, they succeeded, with the aid of the complaisant
home government, in elTecting a re-union of govern-
ments in 1841, when they became known as Canada
East and Canada West and so remained until merged
by the confederation of the various provinces in 1867
into the Dominion of Canada, when they were named
the Province of Quebec and the Province of Ontario,
as now known.

Here now is seen the anomaly of two provinces as
unlike in origin, religion, tastes and practices as can
well be imagined, yet living in peace and friendly
rivalry beside each other, and owing allegiance to a
common flag to which both are devotedly loyal.

But the early intolerance and antipathy, founded on
race and religious prejud'.ce, baz b&cn and is an impor-
tant if not the determining factor in keeping alive
much of the ancien regime in the Province of Quebec.

In many of the rural districts of this province old
customs and quaint practices are nearly as well defined
and as unique today as in the days when first intro-
duced centuries ago under the fostering care of the
fieur de lis of France.

The Province or Quniir and Iti Piopu. 77

While innovation and change are apparent in the
cities and larger centres of population, doubtless stim-
ulated by travel, observation and interchange of ideas,
by a mixed population, with different customs and
practices, and in deference to modem demands, yet in
rural communities the primitive ways, quaint customs
and practices of early times still obtain — and this is
more particularl; tinr luid striking in the Church, in
church manageiiii'iit, .^lis..'rttiii'^«N and practices.

The early cclc .ii-t t cini; w^-li instructed in their
religion and \t-,y obtMiiiiil U> it.-* n .airements and cus-
toms, brou/;lit /.'Ah iln'iii .1 Icni wleJge of the wealth
and beauty uf the virni'j.iioji of tiie Church; and the
clergy and inissioi.:i,-ii . b»iug well schooled in and ac-
customed to tlie j,niiul'- ',v, Ij. uuty and appropriateness
of the Roman ritupl, ■■■ e • boukI'!. to give added mean-
ing, beauty and sigiuiieaiice to every Church function
by full adherence to and observance of its every re-
quirement — to give outward expression and emphasis
to the interior meaning.

As in the older countries where the Church is gov-
erned by canon law, the lay element in the Province of
Quebec is recognized and accorded its proper voice in
the secular affairs of the Church. On the formal estab-
lishment of a parish by the Bishop, the congregation
elect three members who are known as Syndics or
MarguUliera (church wardens) who with the pastor
constitute the Fabrique, a corporation in the eye of
the law, a board of management of the temporalities
of the Church which may sue and be sued. One of
these members at the outset is elected for one year,
one for two, and one for three year.s ; one retires each
year, when at the annual meeting of the parish a new

Qathebed Waiflets.

member is elected, always leaving two men with ex-
perience to continue in office. In long years of experi-
ence in and knowledge of the workings of this system
not a single case of friction or unpleasantness is re-
called, and the knowledge of business brought to bear
in the matter of building, repairing, and the care and
management of churches, convents, schools and the
like, has been of inestimable benefit and value, and a
great lessening of the burdens borne by the priests in
the United States.

The parisliioners who are elected to this board are
recognized as the lay head of the parish, and corre-
sponding honor is paid to them. For their use a special
pew is erected upon an elevated banc or platform
apart from tlie pews and at the side of the church
witliin the sanctuary railing. It is generally more
elaborately constructed than the other pews, is sur-
mounted by a canopy or Crucifix, or both, and is pro-
vided with u lighted candle at each end during Mass.
The member in liis thi' ri ,ear of service is the chair-
man and sits at tli'j head of tlie pew and always takes
precedence over tlie other members.

After the singers and acolytes, who are seated within
the sanctuary, thi^y receive the Asperges before it is
bestowed upon tlie i)eople; on Palm Sunday they re-
ceive tlie paliiis from the hands of the priest at tlie
sanctuary rail, and they take precedence at all func-
tions of the Church wherein the laity have part, such
as formal gatherings, in the Fete Dieu procession and
other church functions, escorting the Bishop to anti
from the railway station on the occasion of his visits,
and the like.

In the services of the Church in rural communities

The Phovinoi of Qubbbo ahd Its People. 79

only the Gregorian music is sung by male voices, unless
upon exceptional occasions. The singers, gowned in
white surplices, sit within the sanctuary anu sing the
alternate parts. Their work is not that of the modem
shrieking soprano, whose dis-edifying and trilling
efforts seem much better suited to divert the mind and
attention of the hearers than to inspire devotion and
praise; not that of the paid tenor who is content with
nothing less than modern operatic airs, but is from
the heart — sturdy, unaffected, devotional.

During the month of May, fete days, and on special
occasions, females may be admitted to the organ loft
in the gallery and allowed to take part in the singing.
In the churches of the cities regular choirs of mixed
voices now sing, and figured music of the less florid
type is not infrequently performed.

The bell, called the "tongue of the Church," sounds
out the Angelus morning, noon and night, at the eleva-
tion, at all Masses, baptisms and weddings ; at a death
it tolls the age of the dect-iised, and as soon as the
funeral cortege comes within sight of the church its
solemn knell adds another to the mournful solemni-
ties of the occasion. When tlie Angdus bell sounds
tlie faithful who arc working in the fields turn toward
the church, uncover their heads, and recite the pre-
scribed prayers. This is well illustrated by the cele-
brated painting by Millet.

The Agafse, a custom introduced in Apostolic times,
is still observed. A basket and napkins, provided by
the Fabrique, or parish, are taken home by some mem-
ber who returns thorn the following Sunday morning
with a sufiicient number of loaves of bread which,
when cut into small cubes or pieces, will be sufScient

Gathered Waifiets.

for all iiiemhi'is of the congregation to rcceivi- one.
Tliese loaves are placed upon a small table in the sanc-
tuary before tile altar where the priest l)less(3s them
before Mass. The loaves are then reuio\eil to the
sacristy by the saiM-istau, sexton, or beaille, where they
are cut into small pieces ami ilistributed to the eongre
gation iluring Mass — to the Syndics tirst and then to
the rest of th<' congregation. Each person recei\ ing a
portion devoutly makes the sign of the cross with it
and then consumes it. After Mass the basket and naj)-
kins are taken away by the person who brought them
and the brca<l and deliv, red to his nearest neighbor,
who performs a similar service the following Sunday,
who returns basket and napkins to his neighbor, and
.so the work goes continnidly on throughout the entire
parish without interruption.

The origin of this custom has received various ex-
planations. Some writers contend that it had its ori-
gin in the brotherly gatherings and feasts of the early
Christians (1 Cor. XI), some as typifying the charity
with which Christians should feed the pool-, others the
miraculous nmltiplieation of the Iouncs and fishes,
which typify the Blessed Eucharist, etc.

Be this as it may, the pain benit is a living reality
in the church of the huhitanta and its abandonment
would be to them a sail innovation and omission from
the ceremonial of tht Church.

At the Akix'iijc.i the priest, preceded by the cross
bearer, acolytes, and acconii)anied by an assistant who
carries the holy water, makes the circuit of the church,
which gives an added importance, impressiveness anci
solemnity to the ceremony over the more abridged and
perfunctory blessing from within the sanctuary.

The Psoviwce of Quebec amd Its People. 81

A parish Mass is o£Fered by the parish priest in the
springtime to invoke the blessing of God upon the
seeds about to be cast into the eariih, and it is no
infrequent occurrence to hear the announcement from
the pulpit that some member of the parish, sometimes
named and sometimes nameless, has arranged for a
similar Mass — and it sometimes happens that several
are provided for and announced at the same time.

Again, Masses are offered for an abundant har-
vest, for rain, for fair weather, relief from war, epi-
demics, sickness, for members of a family, for God's
blessing upon the parish, and the like.

Great solemnity is given to all the feast* and festi-
vals of the Church, but to none more than the fete
Dieu, or Corpus Christi. For days and weeks previ-
ous old and young vie with each other in planting
evergreen trees along the route of the procession,
often forming their tops into arches and decorating
them with mottoes anJ banners. Special attention is
bestowed upon the repository and the best that the
parishioners can bring is none too good to add to its
beauty and attractiveness. Its masses of evergreen
and wealth of flowers, rendered more beautiful by
scores of lighted candles, make an imposing mid-
summer spectacle. Preceding the canopy, which is
usually borne by four of the patriarchs of the parish,
little girls dressed in white and crowned with gar-
lands strew wild flowers in the pathway from baskets
suspended from their necks by brilliant colored rib-
bons. The scene is imposing and the devoutness of
all very impressive and edifying.

Midnight Mass is always celebrated on Christmas
eve, for which great preparations are also made to

Gathered Waiflbts.

render the occasion worthy of the Fesst of the Nativ-
ity. The church is always tilled to overflowing with
devout worshippers, some of whom come aany miles,
and all enter with zest into the spirit of the joyful
season.

The priest makes an annual visit to every family in
his parish, accompanied by one or more of the %?»•
dies, when he takes an official census, inquires after
their spiritual condition, and other matters of impo^
tance, in accordance with a prescribed form sent out by
the Bishop. This serves to more closely unite pastor
and people and furnishes reliable statistics of his parish-
ioners and parish.

In rural communities the priest receives for his prin-
cipal compensation regular tithes which the law im-
poses upon every husbandman, the payment of which
can be enforced by process of law when necessary as
other taxes may be collected.

With few exceptions, such as corn and potatoes,
every farmer must pay into the granary of Momieur
le Cure every twenty-sixth bushel of the crops with
which he may be blessed. This tithe or tax is chee^
fuUy and generously paid as a just and reasonable con-
tribution to the maintenance and decency of worship
of the God who thus blesses with bountiful harvests.
In extensive farming communities it will readily be
surmised that the priest's granary is the largest and
best filled of alL Under French law all who are bap-
tized into the Catholic Church, but who do not go to
church, or who may have joined and attend the Protes-
tant church, must pay such tithes to the parish priest,
and they can be compelled to do so by law until they
publicly abjure t!ie faith according to the ritual pres-

Thb Province of Quebec and It8 People. 83

cribed by the Church for such abjuration and apostasy.

In former times, before the advent of the newspaper
and telegraph, the news of the parish and such outside
news as might come by some traveller or emigrant,
was rehearsed before the dispersal of the congregation
after Mass, and until very recent times the old custom
survived that no law enacted by the government had
binding force until publicly read and proclaimed
(called homologated) from the parish church door
after High Mass on a Sunday or Holy day of obli-
gation by the sheriff of the county or other duly
deputed olRcer.

Another custom in strange contrast with the observ-
ance of the Puritan Sabbath is the sale of farm pro-
ducts, grain, grass-seed, fruit, vegetables, lambs, pigs,
fowls, honey and the like, at auction after Mass, at the
church door.

An explanation of this custom is found in the long
distances many of the parishioners live away from the
church in all directions— six, eight, ten, and even in
some cases twenty miles, while others living in an
opposite direction might be in need of such things
without knowing where to obtain them, besides saving
long journeys over bad roads and much valuable time
during the busy season.

The cemetery usually joins the church, and there
seems to be something appropriate in having the dead
gathered about the altar before which they worshipped
in life, and where their remains will be near their rel-
atives when they assemble to participate in the offices
of the Church. The priest, accompanied by the cross
bearer, thurifer, and acolytes with lighted candles, re-
ceives the corpse upon the bier at the church door

Gathered Waiflets.

where be blesses it and then escorts it chanting the
Miserere or the De Profundus to its place at the sanc-
tuary rail before the altar, when the Requiem Mass is
sung and the funeral obsequies performed with such
pomp and circumstance as the taste of friends may
dictate and their means afford, from the plainest low
Mass to the most elaborate known to the ritual of the
Chui ( ii, including the draping of the entire church and
windows in sombre black.

Travellers meeting a funeral procession usually turn
around and face in the direction which it is going, and
while it is passing bare tlieir heads it the season per
mits, and when the deceased was a prominent person,
the remains are escorted a short distance before the
journey is resumed.

Devotions and pious customs and practices are not
limited to Sundays and Holy days. They are woven
into and become a part of the every day life of the
people. They are not so eager for riches as to live
weU. The members of the family are gathered in
prayer every night when the rosary is said and other
prayers ; a farm is bought and M. U Cure is sent for to
come and bless it ; a house is built, and it may be but
a log cabin on the frontier, but before moving in M.
le Cure comes again and blesses the new home.

When settlements are made in outlying places where
parishes have not been organized Calvairea are erected
by the rt>ad-side upon the first land cleared, and here
the faithful gather on Sundays and Holy days to join
in public prayers. Large crosses and Catvaires are
erected on other farms as they are taken up and re-
claimed from the wilderness, and later when a parish
is organized and the people have more means, they are

The Provinck of Qckbbo awd Its Pbople. 86

made more elaborate hy the erection of a shrine and
placing therein a group representing the Holy Family,
an Apostle, the patron saint of the parish, the emblems
of the Crucifixion — the cross, hammer and nails.

Filial devotion and respect are a very marked char-
acteristic in the homes of the people, as becomes the
Christian family. New Year's day, jour de I' An, is a
day of special rejoicing and family reunion when every
member of the family, from those in the days of earli-
est childhood to those who have grown to manhood
and womanhood, and even those whose heads are
crowned with the snows of years, return to the home
of their childhood and on bended knees supplicate and
receive the aged parents' blessing.

Their sense of justice does not rest upon a human
foundation — the vote of the majority — -nor does it
permit them to violate the God-given rights of con-
science because they are in the majority and can im-
pose their will upon a helpless minority.

Under the laws of their making the Protestant
minority are permitted to maintain schools of their
own, paying all their school taxes thereto, and if there
are not Protestants enough in any school district to
maintain a school they are permitted to join with
other school districts tf) do so. And should any Prot-
estant family or families, whose children have reached
adult years, live in a Catholic community and no school
be necessary, they cuu elect to v/hat school or institu-
tion they wish tlieir taxes paid, no matter where loca-
ted nor what distance away. With them it is simply
a business proposition de(nded according to justice
and not according to fanaticism and bigotry, a prac-
tical exemplification of the Golden Rule.

Gathkrro Waiflrts.

Strang^ as it may leem, in other provinoM of the
Dominion where Proteatantigm dominates, and where
the freedom, liberality and eqnal rights of Protestant-
ism are volubly and vanntingly proclaimed, the rights
of Roman Catholics in educational matters are tram-
pled nnder foot, and the justice they render unto
others where they are in the majority is denied to
th;- n by their fellow citizens where they are in the
T<i--iority.

.V convent and school is generally located near the
parochial residence and church, and here the young
are taught the correct principles of living — the moral
faculties are cultivated and developed as well as the
intellectual Character is molded and formed upon
true Christian lines, the individual ai<led and guided
to reali/e the rights of Ood and his duties toward
man — the true end for which he was created — and not
turned loose upon society a mere intellectual machine
without moral development, balanc^e, symmetry, com-
pass, nidder or ballast Such a»> education makes a
people who pat eternity above time, heaven above
earth, the spiritual above the temporal, principle above
expediency, and an upright life before riches.

Living where they ilo and as they '^.o, battressed
and supported by their religion, they can be nothing
else but Catholics in their religions belief, but at the
threshold of the Twentieth century, with the spirit of
uneasiness and unrest let loose and spreading over the
land, with thousands upon thousands leaving these
salutary props and supports behind, with proselytism
backed by abundant means, stalking through the
land, it may be fairly questioned if the time has not
arrived for them to make re-arrangement of studies

Tub Pbovikck or Qcibm ako It* Pbopli. 87

•nd give more attention to the deeper tmthi of their
religion, the polemical, and to the iciencea.

It is true that it is highest wisdom as well as the
teaching of the Scriptnres to folly realize that "the
Kingdom of Heaven Hitffereth violence and only the
violent bear it away," and " What proftteth it if a man
gain the whole world and lose his soul, " bnt it is also
true, and has the authority of the Scriptures as well
that when God created man He gave him dominion
over the earth with command to go forth and sub-
due it

Too many of these unsuspecting, innocent, honest
Catholics when they leave home and the surroundings
of childhood and the safeguards of their country, are
like the hot-house plant when subjected to the vicissi-
tudes of the elements, like the seed that fell upon the
barren soil, taking root and flourishing for a short
time, but when temptation, indifference, agnosticism,
and the other gilded iams of the day overtake them in
a non-Catholic atmosphere, wither up and fall away.
In these latter days simple faith is a very poor arma-
ment with which to meet the warfare of the world, and
to overcome the seeming logic iiu'l clap-trap of the
designing proeelytixer, and the scotKng and sneers of
the infldel and the agnostic.

In the Province of (jnebec there is no extreme wealth
and no abject poverty. The people are always ready
to assist each other, to extend charity to aid any worthy
cause, and to alleviate affliction and suffering. No
parish is too poor to aid the Society for the Propa-
gation of the Faith, and their contributions put to
shame their more pretentious and wealthy neighbors
in the United States. Nearly every parish has also a

OaTHIRKO WAirLCTS.

Society of the Holy Childhood whose contributions
have maintained many missionaries in heathen lands
and saved many precious souls to heaven.

A daily round of duties well and faithfully per
formed, reasonable competency and peace of mind,
are prized beyond superfluous wealth obtained at the
expense of worry, anxiety, disappointments and mined
health.

The sun rises clear and the day is fair — the habitani
is happy and gives thanks ; morning comes with low-
ering skies and night brings affliction — the habitant
sees in this the hand of God. gives praise and is recon-
ciled. As comes the day, as goes the day — God so
ordains, and to His wisdom and goodness be humble
submission, adoration and praise

Turning away from the excitement and the artiflcial
life of the popular seaside and mountain resort, and
outside the well-worn pathways of tourist travel, a
vacation can be pleasantly and profitably spent in the
neighboring Province of Quebec with a quaint Chris-
tian people, and amid scenes more suggestive of mediie-
valism than the artificial, stilted, throbbing life of the
twentieth century which is in such painful evidence
elsewhere.

AN HOUR UITII THE PURITANS AND
PILGRIMS.

As ADDIISa DELIVKRCD FtBKVlRY 16, 1908, BlFORI DlVIHIOit 3,
AiCCIENT OrdH HlHIRXtAIia, WORCESTIE, MASS.

Mr. President and Brother Hibernians:

I highly iippreci.ite tlie honor of being invited to
address you on tliis occasion. I would that my
eflforta may meet your expectation and command
your approbation. Wlien I accepted the invitation to
appear before yoii, I eiuleuvored to select a subject
that would bo entertaining and pleasing to you. I
know full well that wit, humor and jest are character-
istic of Irishmen — nationiil traits — and that I ought
to offer you something funny ; but once upon a time
many years ago, I tried to be funny and got such a
strapping therefor that I have never trieil to be funny
since. I mention this now lest you may think when
I announce my subject that I mean to perpetrate a
joke, but I assure you that this is not so. I shall
speak to you seriously. I liave decided to address
you on the subject of the Puritans and Pilgrims, and I
do this for tliree leading reasons — to show wherein
they and Irishmen are alike, wherein they are unlike,
an<l to make the true ciiaracter of these much admired
and praised people better known.

If tliere be any one dominant trait in the character
of the Puritans, Pilgrims, and Irishmen, it is loyalty
to their religious convictions. In this they are alike —

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Gatherkd AVaiflets.

and yet behold how most English-speaking people
admire and exalt this trait in the one, while cease-
lessly reprobating and denouncing it in the other.
A\ e Irish and the sons of Irishmen have much to
learn from the Puritans and Pilgrims in this matter.
Be their criminations and recriminations, their dissen-
sions and clashings amongst themselves, what they
may — and they are many and bitter — they are a unit
in sentiment and action against all others. In this
they are unlike. Let Irishmen or their descendants
disagree, even in trivial matters, and too often a sec-
ond generation must be born and come upon the
scene of action before amity and a community of inter-
ests will reign — before minor misunderstandings and
differences will be forgiven or forgotten. AVell did
the poet Moore characterize this when lie lamentingly
wrote in this connection of Irishmen and their ene-
mies:

"While your tyrants join'd in hate,
You never join'd in love."

My third reason will appear more fully as I pro-
ceed. For a title I have called my subject

An Hour With tub Puritans and Pilgrims.

The present is an exacting age. A spirit of inquiry
and investigation is everywhere in evidence. A mam-
moth interrogation point stands out boldly in the lime-
light of the intense life of the twentieth century. A
huge iconoclastic giant roams unfettered throughout
the land to uproot, to overturn, and to destroy every-
thing opposed to truth and progress, everything that
burdens mankind and holds him enthralled, to tear

An HofR With the PuRiTArrs and Pilobims. 91

down the superstructure so industriously erected upon
the falsehoods of tlie past, and hitherto fondly main-
tained and propagated for base and selfish motives.

At no previous time in the history of the world
has such fearless independence to probe to the bottom
of things been manifested — to clear away and destroy
the accumulated rubbish and debris of past ages. No
predilections or prejudices have restrained, no fear of
consequences has debarred.

Thanks to the spirit of a more intellectual, inde-
pendent, and just age, much that has done duty as
history too sacred to be questioned has had the fraud-
ulent mask stripped therefrom and the supporting
frame-work thrown out upon the rubbish heap of myth
and fable. This is a hopeful sign an<l gives promise
that the day of misrepresentation and falsehood is
past, and that truth will eventually come into her own
again.

In such a mood and in such a spirit, and in tlie
interest of historical truth, let us give a passing hour
to the Puritans and Pilgrims, and some of the many
things that have been said, written and accepted as
authentic history concerning them. It is no exag-
geration to say that the coming of the Pilgrims and
Puritans and what is claimed for them — their deep
religious convictions and loyalty to conscience, their
godly lives, their persecution for conscience sake,
their sufferings and fortitude, their achievements and
triumphs, the lasting impression for good that they
left upon society to uplift and ennoble — all this and
mnch more of similar import has been told from gen-
eration to generation with ever-increasing addition,
exaggeration, and emphasis during all the years since

'•'2 (lATlIERED WaIFLETS.

their organization as a sect, now more tlian tliree hun-
dred J cars.

Societies witliout number liave been formed and
multiplied throughout the land — Descendants of the
JIayrtower, Forefatliers' Day, New England Societies,
and other similar organizations and associations — to
glorify them and to sing tlieir praise; printing
presses, like living \-olcanoes, liave belched forth ap-
pro\ing and commendatory volumes, some of which
are digniiie<l by the name of history ; pamphleteers
and pulpiteers have taxed the English language to
its utmost for wotils of encomium and praise; orators
on the rostrum and statesmen in the halls of legisla-
tion have soared away upon the wings of vivid imag-
inations and lost themselves in stilted phrases and
frenzies of praise; poets have touched aU the finer
chords of tlieir art to give them and their deeds at-
tractive and effective setting ; and the pencils of artists
and the chisels of sculptors have been employed to
proclaim their greatness and transmit their undying
fame (i) down the corridors of Time to generations
unborn.

In accordance with the spirit of the age we will
depart from the pathway of admiration and adulation
and very briefly consider some of the many claims
made in behalf of the Pilgrims and Puritans and the
evidence upon which they rest. In doing this, and, to
avoid any charge of bias or prejudice, we shall limit
our evidence very largely to that of Bradford himself,
and to other writers of known standing and impartiality.

BIRTH OF I't'RITANISM.

To judge them rightly we must go back to the birth
of Puritanism, and even to the time of the birth of the

An IIchk With the Puritans and Pilorims. {k\

principles tliat ninile Puritanism possible. Luther,
breaking? away fnim tlie center of religious unity and
assertinj? the riirht of private judgment, proclaimed
faith and faitli alone as the corner-stone of his new
religion, and tlie only rei[uisite for eternal salvation.
Sin and sin. if you will, according to his doctrine, but
believe and your salvation is secure. Calvin soon fol-
lowed proclaiming tlie vengeance of an Omnipotent
and otfended (iod, and tiie damnation of all mankind
save the predestined few — and here we have at the out-
set of tlie so-called Reformation, as the legitimate
fruit of private judgment, wholesale salvation pro-
claimed on the one liand and wholesale damnation on
the other, principles — or lack of principles — directly
opposed to tlie teachings of Christ, and as opposed iih
are the poles — rs far asunder as the vagaries of the
human mind can conceive — and which have given
birth to all the sects that have been born, died, and
re-incarnate<l in one foi jr another during all tlie
centuries since.

THE Al'OSTACY OF HENRY VIII.

Henry VIII soon after came to the throne of Eng-
land grounded in the faitii of his fathers — the church
which has come triumphantly down the centuries from
the time of its institution in Jerusalem by the Re-
deemer of mankind, who foretold the coming of false
teachers and false preachers, but He also promised
that lie would abide with it forever, and that the
gates of hell should not prevail against it — a church
to which he was devotedly loyal, a church in defence
of which he wrote trenchantly against Luther, his work
earning for him from the Pope at Rome the title of

Gathered Waiflets.

" Defender of tbe Faith," which title is still proudly
borne by the crown of England, a church to whose
teachings he was true, until yielding to the lowest and
basest of animal passions, he failed to secure the
approval of the I'ope, the visible head of the church
on earth, to sanction the violation of that command of
Scripture which says : "What God hath joined let no
man put asunder." Failing in this and yielding to his
passions he liroke away from the center of Christian
unity — the church to which the people and the throne
of England had been loyal for nearly one thousand
years — and began that career of licentiousness and
crime that earned for him the saying that "he neither
spared woman in his lust nor man in his anger," and
that brought lasting disgrace upon the throne of Eng-
land

Breaking away from the church and following in
the foot-steps of Luther ,ind Calvin, he set up his un-
eontrnlled will as the law of the land in spiritual mat-
ters—and in opposition to the < jmmand of the Master
to observe whatsoever things He commanded, and to
render unto God the things that are God's — another
addition to the sects whose doctrines rested upon the
comer-stone of private judgment — upon the "it seem-
eth better unto me" rather than upon the "thus said
the Lord" of Mt. Sinai, an<l the "He tliat heareth you
heareth Me," and "he that believeth not shall be
damned" of the Master. Plunged into excesses his
e.xchequer was soon exhausted when plundering, rob-
bery, bloodshed, and ruin soon followed in the wake,

d the most violent and barbarous cruelties and
l?utcheries were visited upon all who stood for moral
rectitude and opposed him. Piracy became general at

Ati IIorR With the PrRiTANs akd Pilorims. i».j

home and abroad, and the honors of knighthood were
bestowed upon the most daring and successful pirates,
freebooters, and marauders — the ill-gotten gains of
some of whom were shareil with royalty itself.

DKOENKUACY OK THK PEOPLE.

People in higli and low station bent tht knee to
Baal, and everytliing salutary was sacrificed to the
accjuisition of wealtli, station and power. Even the
Chief Justice of Kngland, the immortal Bacon, sol<l his
decisions — the decisions of the highest legal tribunal in
the land — for money. Demoralization existed in every
walk of life, and lust for wealth soon begot religious
dyspepsia, whicli in turn begot a multiplicity of sects
to meet tlie morbid wants of those who trampled the
ten Commandments an<l the teaching and positive
commands of the Son of (rod under foot. Worldli-
ness and the baser passions then dominated and actu-
ated the masses of the English people. At such a
time, of such conditions, and of such a people was
Puritanism born.

THE PfRITAN CHARACTER.

It is not too much to say that the people composing
this sect were no better than others of their time who
were dominated by base and selfish motives, who
veiled their misdeeds under scriptural te.\ts, high-
sounding phrases, and lofty pretences — of dethroning
error and establishing a purer religion while driving
the living Christ from tl'o sanctuary and installing
man in His stead. During all the years since, holy
lives and holy ends have been claimed for them, and
their alleged holiness lias been proclaimed to the
world to gloss over and obscure vile deeds until the

!»()

Oatiikkkd AVaifi.kts.

'I-'

ttord puritanical I as been given place in tlie vocabu-
lary as synonomous with false pretense and ileeepticin.
It reijiiires no deep profundity, or exhaustive inves-
tiifatiou of tlie records of the past, to discover tiiat
their so-called relijjious jinnciples were the offsprinj;
of tlie aberration of a morbid pietism wedded to mer-
cenary and firaspiuc; arrogance and avarice.

We are aware tliat some of the descendants of the
Pilgrims disclaim anything iu common with tlie Puri-
tans; but Puritan and Pilgrim being contemporary, of
the same parentage and descent, and being united by
the common ties of origin, <loctrine, aims and de-
sires — in tlie cruel enactment and more cruel enforce-
ment of ))arbarous jienal laws, in opposition to tlieir
repeal or amelioration, and otlier unchristian practi-
ces — and fraternizing and feUowsliipping as they did,
no good reason exists for making any distinction be-
tween them now simply because some of them immi-
grated to this country a few years before others did.
Tlie motives that apparently actuated tliem in their
native land were tlie dominant and actuating motives
of the time— the acipiisition of wealth, tlif Attainment
of station, tlie gratification of ambition.

Tlie Puritans in iheir native country sought to
undermine the government, to overthrow royaltj', and
to assume the reins of power. This treasonable disloy-
alty and subversion of government was concocted, cul-
tivated, and put into practice under the hypocritical
pretense of hatred of prelacy, striving for freedom of
conscience, the practice of pure relij- on, and the like.
In "The United States History, Its Powers and
Progress," Philadelphia, IS.M, it is recorded that
political malcontents and plotters against their law-

An IIoiii With thk I'i-ritans and Pimirim:^. 07

fully eoustitiitfil jidvunimeiit am! rfijiiiins; (^iieeii
(Jlary, A. 1>. l.■)."l,•!-^), in the year ir).")4, were com-
pelled to flee from their country to encape the just
penalty of their treason. They went to Geneva and
there remained until the accession of Elizabeth in
1558, when tliey returned and organized a politico-
religious society un<ler the leadership of one Hrown,
when they became known as Brownists — and later,
when further differences and contentions arose they
were given the name of Puritans, in derision, because
of their preposterous pretensions. Separatists, Inde-
pendents, Presbyterians, Non-conformists, and other
seemingly endless subdivisions and variations were
born soon after as the offspring of this parent stock.

In this connection we need devote no more time to
the aims and objects of this political-religious sect, be-
cause every school-boy knows that they fully realized
the success of the unlioly, ambitious, rebellious and
traitorous principles that actuated them when they
butchered their king, overturned their lawful govern-
ment, and put Cromwell at its head.

Dismissing their political and treasonable schem-
ing, and turning our attention to their so-called relig-
ion, we find its chief corner-stone to be that each
individual in matters of belief is a law unto himself,
believing or rejecting at will ; that each congregation
of the many, many divided sects, is, generally speak-
ing, independent of all others, has a right to assemble
and worship according to its own doctrines and cove-
nants, and these are to be determined by the majority
thereof, thus milking (lod's word and God's law de-
pendent upon the votes of men and their changing
whims. That it was greed for gain and lust for

Gathered Waiklrtm.

II i ;

power tliat prompted, and not the love of "pure
religion," its so volubly, vuimtingly, and persistently
proi'lairaed, that impelled them, we shall to be brief,
summon but one from the many witnesses who give
approving testimony.

.Maoaulay says: "Not content witli limiting the
power of tlie Monarcli, they were desirous to erect
a commonwealth on the ruins of English polity."

ITHITANS CONTl'MACIors AND DISLOYAL.

That they went arrogant, ambitious, obstinate, opin-
ionated, dictiitorial, disputatious, contentious, and irrec-
oncilable, is abundantly proved by their conduct and
tiie history ami literature of their times.

A standard Englisli publication says: "The Puri-
tans miglit liave almost said in a word we object to
everytliing."

And Wentwortli, subsequently Karl of Staffonl, said
of them: "The very genius of .... these people
leads them always to oppose, botli civilly and ecclesi-
astically, all that authority ever outlines for tliem."

And again we read in reference to the bitter and
selfish wrangling and intriguing of these times, "Epis-
copacy stood against Puritanism, royalty against re-
publicanism, independency against Presbyterianism, —
and all these against Catholicism."

How well tlie treasonable leaven of Puritanism
worked in seducing tlie allegience of the soldiery
from their King and government; how well their
cherislied, ambitious and unscrupulous leader, Crom-
well, succeeded by liypocritical religious pretences in
supplanting the loj-al officers in the army with his
willing, unscrupulous, and unprincipled tools, the

An HdiK With tiik IVritaim ami Pti.iiRiM^. (lit

blooily bnttlnn f<)u^Jllt, the devafitation wrniiglit, the
overthrow of the ({overnraent, the beheading of thrir
Kini;, anil the ingtullation ot Cromwell as Loril Pro-
tector, are to'. ' pon the bloody and disgi-aoeful pages
of Knj^land's Ir tory.

In the Kncyclopedia Britannica we read in relation
to their condiu't at this time, that "it was indefensible
when we regard tlieir idea of the civil power, of the
conscience, and religi m."

We liave not far to seek for a reason why some of
them sought safety in foreign countries before and
after the Kestoration, and we shall not find the impel-
ling motivt to be to find a country where they might
enjoy religions liberty so much as to find a place
where they miglit escape from the just penalty of
their crimes. Altliougli, with the cunning of the ser-
pent, they set up the cry of "religion," and "persecu-
tion for conscience sake," it was not the first or only
time that the livery of hi^'ven was stolen to cover a
base purpose.

Their descendants and successors continually hark
back to the same seductive and deceitful cry; but in
this day and generation, it would be difficult to find
an unbiased jury who, on presentation of the abun-
dant testimony that can be adduced to the contrary,
would find this as their verdict.

riKITANS WKLCOMKU IN HOLLAND.

We h 7e it upon tlie testimony of some of those
who went to Ilolliind that they ivere well received
there, that they were not persecuted for conscience
sake, nor were any obstacles interposed against their
peculiar religious practices — or v.-hat were meant for

100

(i.VTIIKRKII AVaU'I.KTS.

i ' i
Ijll

Biicli. Then wliy did tlif y init remain there i Why
<Iid tliey not 8tiiy in a civilized anil tolerant country
that received them witli open arms* For an answer
we liave but to rwnll the ferment and imreHt that at
that time pervailed all civilized Kiirope in conse-
(jiience of the fabulouH tales tidd of the ^reat wealth
that abounded in America, and that it only awaited
the pitherinj? by those who adventured thither.

\\'e have it upon the authority of Hradford himself
that many of his comrades, companions, and other
allejfcd ultra-holy people were wranglintf anJ <|uarrel-
int? amouK themselves at Frankfort where "be(fan the
liitter war of .uteution" which later resulted in a
disruption of the one and the orgauizatiou of two dis-
tinct churches— a characteristic that has survived until
the ])reseut time— when a number of them "falling
into some errors in ye h)W countries there for ye most
parte buried themselves and tiieir names."

Being restive and •mreconeilable, they removetl
from Frankfort to Amsterdam, but wrangling and
ipiarreliug stilJ continued. They subseciuently re-
moved to Leyden wliere it was rumored that Holland
was growing w^iary of them, and "had rather driven
them out," when "they began to think of removal to
some other place,"— some saying that "they preferred
the prisons of England," from which they fled to
escape from the conseciuences of thjir crimes, "to
such liberty in Holland."

The •'hildren as they grew up, inheriting the traits
of their parents, became obstreperous and dissolute,
"getting ye raines off their necks and departing from
their parents,"— these "christian" children of "chris-
tian" parents brought up under sternest "christian"

An IIoi'r With tub PrRiTANH and Piuirimm, liil

(linriplinu in a country tliiit inlerpo§e<l n" limitation
or bnrrierH!

It was iihoiit tim« to niiik« nnotlier oimn(?e when
tliey liei'imiM iinxidiiM to "no to Home pliu'e of bt-t-
ter ailvantat^e" w litre a "better and easier plaoe of
liviu(? would draw many" — tlien as afterwards look-
ing out for the main cl.anee — not wlioUy an unworthy
motive, perhaps, but strantfely out of harmony with
the claims put forth in tiieir behalf. t'r)nference and
debate resulted, and the advantages and disadvantages
of different places were discussed and considered.
Some wanted to go to (iuinea, "as it must needs make
ye inhabitants ridi,"— and (iuinea belonged to the
much-despiHcd and rell'jiou-hateil Spnniank — ami ho
thrift again, and not 'igion or conscience, creeps in
as an impelling moti'. ,.

Others wanted to go to "some parts of Virginia
where ye Knglish had already ma''e entrance," but
objection was made to tliis because 'hey went there
they might be worse persecuted tl in England —
Cavalier and Kounil-heud would not be likely to fra-
ternize or liave anything more in common in the New
than they had in the Old AVorld. But with them, in
temporal as in spiritual matters, a vote of the majority
ty was supreme, and America was chosen.

SKKKINO TIIK AID OK ADVENTURERS OR I'KOMOTEK-*.

Hrought up as they had been, and living as they
did, roaming from place to place, they were without
facilities and means to undertake the voyage; and
here the words of Bradford are very significant, "and
they must as well looke to be seconded with supplies
as presently to be transported."

102

Gathered Waiflets.

I:!i

Several of the nations of Europe had, in earlier
times, been very active and highly successful in colo-
nizing and developing portions of America and deriv-
ing vast revenue therefrom — much of which was
captured by English pirates — and now some of the
English people awoke from their debaucheries — their
predatory life, robberies, beer-drinking, bear-baiting
and cock-fighting — long enough to learn what these
more enlightened, more civilized, and more enterpris-
ing nations had accomplished, and now they sought to
share in the profits of such work — this triumph of
peace, civilization, and endeavor. The more enter-
prising and adventurous were now active in promo-
moting their own financial interests by outfitting par-
ties — "grub-staking" them, as it is now called — i<>
come to these shores for fish and to trade with the In-
dians for furs.

This being known in Holland, a committee was
appointed by the Puritans to visit some of these out-
fitters — adventurers they were then called — to secure
their interest, co-operation and aid. The adventurers,
outfitters, or " grub-stakers " of those times were an
e.Ycellent type of the well known promoters of the
present day.

This committee met with success, and they then re-
turned to Holland and made a formal report, which
was so favorable that another committee was dis-
patehod to make final arrangements "to treat and
conclude with such merchants and other friends as
had manifested their forwardness to provoke to and
adventure in this voyage." This proposed "adven-
ture" becoming known in Holland "some Dutchmen
made them faire offers about going with them," but

An Hour With the Puhitans and Pilgrims. 103

Thomas Weston, a prominent adventurer or promoter
of Bristol, (loubtlesj fearing to lose such a large num-
ber of " grub-stakers," journeyed to Leyden to pro-
mote the enterprise, and "at ye same time persuaded
them to goe on and not to meddle with ye Dutch nor
depend too much on ye Virginia Company," and that
"he and such merchants as were his friends would sett
them forth and feare neither want for shipping nor
money."

ACTOATING MOTIVES.

The above throws a very strong side-light upon the
going out of the Puritans — as trusting angels into the
darkness of night, voyaging out upon unknown and
tempestuous seas for conscience sake, and to establish
religious liberty and freedom as claimed. Does not
this and many other tilings of similar import, now
easily available, abundantly prove that it was merce-
nary rather than spiritual motives that prompted the
coming of the Pilgrims and Puritans?

The bright prospects now of going "to some place
of better advantage " stimulated wrangling and schem-
ing anew, when "Mr. Black well, he was an elder of ye
church at Amsterdam .... made strategem for Sir.
Johnson and his people at Embden."

"These divisions and distractioms had shaken off
many of their pretended friends" — and also their
proffered and hoped-for means.

But these promoters were no novices in such under-
takings, and were not to he thwarted by dissimulation
and scheming. With the assurance, coolness, and
adroitness of the modern promoter, they brushed
aside and surmounted obstacles, even when seated
upon the throne itself. For the venture now under

1 4

104

Gathered Waiflets.

consideration, they obtained a patent or charter from
the Crown, but " the patente was not taken in ye name
of any of their own."

AVhy strategem? Why deception? Why dissimu-
lation?

The colony of Virginia, whither the Puritans pre-
tended that they intended to go, was living under
a charter that recognized the church "by law estab-
lished," and it would be too much to expect the king
to approve the introduction of an element of discord
and strife — a renewal in the New of the bitterness and
strife and bloodshed and anarchy of the Old World.
The promoters, successful in this ob in other things,
secured from the King his promise that he "would
connive at them and would not molest them."

PRACTISING DECEPTION.

We have seen that Weston had already told them
"not to depend too much on ye Virginia Company,"
and now it is a fair question to ask if he had not
already planned, with the knowledge and approval of
the King and leading Puritans in the enterprise, not
to go to Virginia, but to land at some more northern
place, fls they afterwards did. Is it not another fiction
of history so-called that they had lost their way when
they landed at Cape Cod? In view of the maritime
knowledge of the time, it is demanding over-much of
credulity to believe that their landing upon the coast
of Massachusetts was not more by design than by acci-
dent, or because of lack of knowledge; and this is
further strengthened by the willingness of the King
to wink at their observances of their religious forms,
which he could safely do if promised that they should

An Hour With the Puritans and Pilgrims. 105

be landed so far away from the Virginia colony. And
this contention is still further strengthened and con-
Armed by the signing of what has become known as
a very wonderful performance — the signing of the
famous compact on the Mayflower for which so much
is claimed in history — the Magna Charta of our liber-
ties, and the like.

As is true in most similar enterprises the passen-
gers on board the Mayflower came from many walks
of life, even from the slums of the streets of London,
among whom were turbulent and v^ery unruly persons.
The passengers generally in good faith took passage
for Virginia, where doubtless some of them expected
to meet old friends and companions among the earlier
colonists. It is not difficult to surmise what might
have taken place, and what might have been the re-
sult, had they not been tied up in the "compact" before
discovering the deception practiced upon them when
they were landed upon the coast of Massachusetts.

But now other promoters came upon the scene, for
the Puritans learned "yt sundrie lords obtained a large
grant from ye King for ye more northerly parts of that
country derived out of ye Virginia patente and wholly
secured from that governmente, and to be called by
another name, viz. : New England.

Mr. Weston, the active promoter of the enterprise,
was suspiciously active and urgent for the Puritans to
abandon going to Virginia and to go to New England
instead, "chiefly for ye hope of present proflte to be
made by ye fishing that was found in ye countrie."

This was another occasion for wrangling and quar-
relling, not only among the promoters, but also among
the Puritans, some of whom now refused to go because

•I'

106

Gathered Waiflets.

they were not to go to Guinea, some because they were
not to go to Virginia, and others, who were doubtless
in the secret, because it was decided to go to New Eng-
land.

COMPACT ON BOARD THE MAYFLOWER.

But to Nr w England they came although pretending
that Virginia was their destination. We have already
seen tlie necessity for making the celebrated "com-
pact" on boanl the Mayflower before landing, and the
shrewd worldly interest that prompted it

In the words of Bradford, it was "occasioned partly
by ye discontented and mutinous speeches that some
of the strangers amongst them had let fall from them
in ye ship — That when they came a shore they would
use their own libertie; for none had power to com-
mand them, the patente they had being for Virginia,
and not for New England, which belonged to an other
Government with which ye Virginia Company had
nothing to doe. And partly that such an acte by
them done (thi" their condition considered) might be
as flrme as any patent, and in some respects more
sure."

The glamour thrown around this act leads the youth
in oar schools and the untliinking to place it upo a
par, if not above, the acts of the Apostles ; but more
closely examined, it will be found upon a very low
human level — the abrogation of a solemn covenant,
the patent under which the passengers on board the
Mayflower adventured, and the l bstitution of another
document that put aU the power of domination and
control into the hands of the conspiring and ambi-
tious — a dominant and unquestioned trait in the Puri-

An Hot'R With the Pubitans and Pilgrims. 107

tan character from their earliest beginning down to the
present time.

What then becomes of the mountains of admiration
and adulation so industriously and continually built
up to proclaim their foresight and statesmanship — the
purity of their lives, their loyalty to principle, and
their siccess in establishing the civil and religious
liberty now such a marked and highly-prized charac-
teristic of this country?

It would indeed be very singular if there were not
some high-minded and good people among them ; but
when all reference to the bad is omitted, or their sin-
ful lives glossed over, and indiscriminate and exagger-
ated praise bestowed upon them, the generations of
the past believed, as well as do too many of the pres-
ent, that they were all upright. God-fearing and holy.
It m„y well be questioned if the best and most able of
their number returned to earth whether or not they
would recogaize the pictures made of them or the
frames that give them setting.

A close examination of the records of their time
bears ample negative evidence, but we shall now be
content with the testimony of Bradford himself upon
a few of the many cases that might be cited.

"si

DEFALCATIOX OF ALLEETON.

AUerton, a son-in-law of Elder Brewster, one of the
more prominent men of the Mayflower colony, for
whom Point AUerton, on the coast of Massachusetts, is
named, and who was, doubtless, a leader among them,
was sent to England to dispose of the first cargo of
beaver-skins and other fur and fish, to adjust financial
matters between the adventurers and the Pilgrims, and

108

Gathered AVaiflets.

to bring back such goods and commodities as were
needed in the Colony. On his return, he made such
a showing that he was sent the next and following
years on like missions. Suspicions were aroused that
everything was not right. Another person was sent
later, when it was discovered that Allerton was a rank
defaulter. Bradford says of this :

"First it seems to appere clearly that Ashley's
business, and ye buying of this ship, and ye courses
framed thereupon, were flrst continued and proposed
by Mr. Allerton, as also yt pleaes and pretences which
he made of ye inabilitie of ye plantation to repaye
their money's, etc., and ye hops he gave them of doing
it with proHte was more believed «fe rested on by them
(at least some of them) then anything ye plantation
said or did."

"It is like, though Mr. Allerton might thinke not to
wrong ye plantation in ye maine, yet his own gaine
and private ends led him aside in these things ; for it
came to be knowne, and I have it in a letter under
Mr. Shirley's hand, that in ye 2 or 3 years of his im-
ploymente he had cleared up £400. and put it into a
brew-house of Mr. Collier's in London, at first under
Mr. Sheriey's name, .fee; besides what he might have
otherwise. Againe Mr. Sherley and he had perticuler
dealings in some things ; for he bought up ye beaver
that sea-men and other pasengers brought over to
Bristol, and at other places, and charged ye bills to
London, which Jlr. Sherley payed ; and they got some
time A'.'iO. a peece in a bargen, as was made known by
Mr. Ilatherly and others, besids what he might be
other wise.
"With pitie and compassion (touching Mr. Aller-

An Hocb With the Puritans and Pilgrims. lOi)

ten) I may say with ye apostle to Timothy, I Tim.
e-"). They that mil be rich fall into many temptationi
and mares, etc.; and pearce them$elves throw with
many sorrows, etc. ; for the love of money is ye roote
of all evil., V lo."

"God give him to see ye evil in his failings, that
he may find mercie by repentance for ye wrongs he
hath done to any, and this pore plantation in spetiall."

MI'RDER AND BESTIALITY.

John Billington, one of the passengers who came
over in the Mayflower, was hanged for murder a few
years after landing in the country.

In Bradforci's words, "This year John Billington ye
elder, (one that come over with ye first) was arrained,
and by both grand and petie jurie found guilty of wil-
ful murder, by plaine and notorious evidei ce. And
was for the same accordingly e.Mcuted. His facte
was, that he way-laid a young man, one John New
Comin (about a former ijuarell,) and shote him with
a gune, whereof he dyed."

And again Bradford records: "Amongst of ?r
enormities that feU out amongst them, this year 3 ? ^n
were (after due triall) executed for robery and mur-
der which they had committed; their names were
these, Arthur Peach, Thomas Jackson, and Richard
Stinnings ; there was a 4., Daniel Crose, who was also
guilty, but he escaped away and could not be found."
Thomas Granger was convicted and hung for the
crime of sodomy. The animals with which the crimf
was committed were assembled and killed in his pre' •
ence and tumbled into a common pit, when he w as
executed. Of this and other vices of the times, P. ad-
ford writes : "And yet all this could not suppress ye

Gathered Waiflets.

braking out of sundrie notorioae sins (as this year,
besids other, gives us too many sad presidents and
instances,) espetially drunkenness and unclainnes;
not only incontinence between persons unmarried, for
which many both men and women had been punished
sharply enough, but some married persons also. But
tliat which is worse, even sodomy and bugerie, (things
fearful to name,) have broak forth in this land, oftener
than once."

COMIXG OK THE FIKiST MINISTER.

As a correct word picture of the sanctimonious
Puritan, with which all are familiar, and some of
his doings, I shall close this salacious reconl of short-
comings and misdeeds of this much proclaimed and
loudly praised, deeply religious and holy (0 people.

Mr. John Lyford came to them as a Minister in
1024. Bradford says of him : "When this man first
came ashore he saluted them with thst deference and
humiliation as is seldome to be seen, r nd indeed made
them ashamed he so bowed and cringed unto them,
and wou' J have kissed their hands if they would have
suffered ; yea he wept and shed many tears, blessing
God that had brought him to see their faces ; and
admiring ye things they had done in their wants, <fec.,
as if he had been made all of love and ye humblest
person in ye world.

"They gave him ye best entertainment yey could
(in all simplisitie) and a large alowans of food out of
ye store than any other had, and as the Gov'r ha<l used
in all waightie affairs to consulte with their elder Mr.
Brewster (together with his assistants) so now he
called Mr. Lyford also to counsel! with them in their
waightiest businesses."

An IIoi-R Wmi tiiis Puritans and Phokims. Ill

Amonffst other 8hnrt>cominf^ and misdeeds, although
a married mao, a charge of bastardy was made against
him, wlien, to again (juote Bradfonl, " his wife was so
effected with his doings, as she could no longer coneeaill
her greefe and sorrow of minde, but opens ye same to
one of tlieir deacones and some of her other fnends
and after uttered ye same to Jlr. Peirce upon his
arrivaL Whicli was to this purpose, that she feared
some great judgment of God would fall upon them,
and upt)n her, for her husband's cause : now that they
were to remove she feared to fall into ye Indians
hands, and to be defiled by them as he |had defiled
otlier women ; or some shuch like judgments, as ttod
had th eateiied David. 2 Sam. 12 11. I will raise up
evil against ye and will take thy wives and give them,
and <fec." And upon it sliowed how he had wronged her,
as first lie lia<l a bastard by another before they were
married, an<l she liaving some inkling of some iU-car-
riage tliat way, when he was a suitor to her, she tould
him what slie heard and denyed him ; but she not cer-
tainly knowing yt thing, otherwise than by some darke
and secret mutterings, he not only stiffly denied it but
to satisfy her tooke a solemn oath that there were no
shuch matter. Upon which she gave consente, and
married with him ; but afterwanis it was found true
and ye bastard brought home to them. She then
cliarged him with liis oath, but he prayed pardon, and
said he should not els have had her. And yet after-
wards she could keep no maids, but he would be med-
dling with tliem, and sometimes she hath taken him in
ye manner, as tliey lay at their l)ed's feet, with shuch
other circumstances as I am ashamed to relate.''

It was afterwards learned that before coming to this

I C

113

Gatherkd Waiflkts.

country Minister Lyfonl "had wonnd himself into ye
esteem of sandry Godly and zelous professors in
those parts who, having been bnrtbened with ye cere-
monies in England, found ther some liberty to their
consciences ; amongst whom were these two men which
gave this evidence. Amongst ye rest of his hearers,
there was a godly yonge man that intended to marie,
and cast his affection on a maide which lived there
abouts ; but desiring to chose in ye Loni, and pref-
fered ye fear of God before all other things, before
he suffered his affection to rune too far, he resolved to
take Mr. Lyford'g advice and judgmente of this maid,
(being ye minister of ye place,) and so broak ye mat-
ter unto him ; and he promised faithfully to informe
him, but would first take better knowledge of her, and
have private conference with her; and so had sundry
times ; and in conclusion commended her highly to
ye young man as a very fltte wife for him. So they were
married together; but some time after mariage, the
woman was much troubled in mind, and afflicted in
conscience, and did nothing but weepe and moume,
and long it was before her husband could get of her
what was ye cause. But at length, she discovered ye
thing, and prayed hira to forgive her, for Lyford had
overcome her, and defiled her body before marriage,
after he had commended him unto her for a husband,
and she resolved to have him when he came to her in
that private way. The circumstances I forbear, for
they would offend ehast ears to hear them related,
for though he satisfied his lust on her, yt he endeav-
ored to hinder conception."

To fuUy treat of their abuse of Indian women, their
debaucheries, sensualities, and other uncleanness would

An Hi)1'r AVitii tiir Pitkitan« ani> PaaRijiH. ll.H

take n* fur beyond the icope proposed, nnd it woiiM
prevent the consideration of some of their other evil
deeds and shortH-ominRs. We shall, therefore, leave
this disgnsting subject and mephitic atmosphere and
seek purer air.

PlUlKIM ANII niRI.AN INTOLERA.VCK AXD HAKUMIIII'S.

The toleration and liberty that they established are
the kind foreshadowe*! in the compact signed on board
the Maytloucr— the riRht to dominate over all and to
persecute, to e.teciite, and drive hence all who did not
yield implicit obedience to their morbid opinions and
wishes. The story of detention in the stocks, oi' burn-
ing holes through tongues witli led-hot irons, of crop-
ping ears, of hanging, of banishment, ami penal enac^
ments, darken and disgrace tlie pages of early Xew
England history, and they are too well known to need
going into more specific detail now.

Of the toils, hardships and <leprivations of the Pil-
grims and Puritans, of which so much has been patheti-
cally told and written about, it is only necessary to
say that they wem neither more nor worse than mil-
lions of other emigrants and pioneers endured while
carving out homes on the frontiers, in the wilderness,
and in other out-posts of tliis country and of the world.

ALI.EGKD PERSECUTIONS HV THE INDIANS.

Much has been said and written about their al-
leged persecutions by the Indians, sympathy claimed
for them therefor, and unstinted praise bestowed
upon them for their heroic courage and fortitude in
conquering and e.xtermiuating such formidable ene-
mies. A careful reading of this portion of their his-
tory will surprise most people when they learn that

ill

114

GaTIIKKKI) W^iki.kth.

for tli« moBt pHrt tliu l'il|<riiii8, I'uritADi, and tlieir
iluHcendantR and Bm-i-uHRiin*, were the B^K'^sgors. It
will hUii oct'UHion no little Hiirprise to notice the preju-
dice, l>iu8, and iinchriiitiau hate that Ih interjevteil into
tile reccmlH. In all their dealiun» with the ludianit,
from Himple aitHofiation ami min);lin)( in the every-tlay
atTaini of life, throu(;h liartrr, the allejfed purchuHe of
thoir landH, cold-blooded niiii'ders, and open warfare,
tile cruel '.•uuninj? unil iujuntice of the white man in
eagily dmcerned. Choice texts of scripture are ipioted
in great abundance to prove the justice of their aveng-
inj? deeds Hj?ain»t the red man, and tlie sunshine of
( Jod's favor tiiereon — whereas the Aborigines, the cliil-
liren of a common Father, are chanicterized as "Hends
of hell," "chihlren of tlie Devil," and the like, and the
work of despoiling them of tlieir property and lives
as christian and highly praise-worthy deeds.

IMIII.A.NTIIKOI'Y OK TllK INDIANS.

During many years after the landing of the May-
flower peace and trami'iility reigned between the
natives anil the new-co.ners, when the Aborigines,
had they been the uncivilize<l an<l cruel barbarians
that they have siniw been painted, could have very
easily e.xterniinated every white man. During all
these years the Pilgrims and Puritans had no diti';-
culty in getting along peaceably h itli the Inuians;
but when the cidonists ".ultiplied in numbers and
waxed strong it was safe to encroach upon, debauch,
rob, exterminate and othe'-wise wrong them, and this
they did not iiesitate to do— and with deadly results.

Hubbard, in his "Narrative of the Indian Wars,"
published in l(ii7, says in reference to the rapidly in-

An HoITR AV|-r|| TIIK Pi'RITANK AND PlLnRIMH. 1 1 .1

creasing whit« )M>piilatinn : "Ami iu tliH year lil.'lo
more of the perHoni iutereHteil in ftnid Patent, n-ith
aeveral other perttons, intenileil to venture their lives
and all with them, transported tliemselves and frienilH
into the said MiiitHachuHettH, who did in a short Hpace
of time by the npcession of many hundreds, who every
year flookec after them, nialce sutdi increase, that in
the space of Hve or six years, there were twenty con-
siderable towns Imilt anil peopled ; ami many of the
towns tirst planted became to tilled with inhabitants,
that like swarms of bees 'hey were ready to swarm,
not only into new plantations, hut into new colonies."

In Kni;land the frenzy for seekinjf fame anil fortune
in America on e started soon became epidemic, and it
extended so rapidly and ftrew to such alarniinjj pro-
portions that the Kin); in Hi40, to restrict emif^ration,
issued a royal edict forbiddin); anyone to jjo to Amer-
ica without tirst havin); obtaiied permission from the
authorities.

Although Hubbard's "Niir..icive of the Indian
Wars," just quoted, approvingly abounds with the
intolerance, prejudice, and wrong-doings of the Pil-
grims and Puritans, like so many others, and espec-
ially their brutal barbarities and fiendish atrocities in
their warfare of extermination, his narrative is punctu-
ated with the story of the civilization and humanity
of the red men. This he makes clear in his eiiumera-
tion of the reasons why the Pilgrims settled where
they did — "and finding some encouragement from the
hopefulness of tlie soil and courtesy of the heathen.
they resolved tlier? to make their abode for the
future, which they did, laying the foundation of a
new colony, which from the remembrance of the last

Mr-4

i'iiii

116

Gatiikred AVaiflets.

town in England, they sailed from, tbey called New
Plymouth." He also gives, as do many others, abund-
ant testimony to prove the brutalities visited upon the
dying and dead bodies of the Indians, slain in war-
fare and otherwise, by dis-merabering, dis-embowelling,
cutting off their heads, handa, and other members, to
carry back to their homes iu brutal triumph — then to
mount them on buildings, or poles set in public places,
and there leave tliem for rapacious birds or the ele-
ments to destroy; but he is frank enough to admit
that "The Indians liow barbarous soever in their own
nature, yet civilly treated their prisoners."

DHADhOKl) S TKSTIMOKV.

''15ut about ye Hi day of March a certain Indian
came bouldly amougst tliem and spoke to tliem in
broken Englisli, whicli tliey could well understand,
l)ut marvelled at. At length they understood by dis-
course with him, tliat he was not of these parts, but
belonged to ye easterne parts wher some English
sliips came to fhisli, with wliome he was acquainted,
ik could name sundrie of tliem by tlieir names, amongst
wliom he got his language. He became protttable to
them in acquainting them with nL-jny things concern-
ing ye state of ye country in ye easte-parts wher he
lived, which was afterwards profitable unto them; as
also of ye people hear, of their names, number, ite
strength; of their situaticm it distance from this
place, and who was cheefe amongst tliem. His name
wasSamaset; lie tould them also of another Indian
whose name was iSi(iianto, a native of this place, who
had been in England it could speake better English
then liim selfe. Being, after some time of entertain-

An Hour With the Puritaks and Pilgrims. 1 1 7

mente & gifts, diamisit, a wliile after lie came againe,
ife 5 more with hira, &, they brought againe all ye
tooles that were stolen away before, and made way for
ye coming of their great Sachem, called Massasoyt ;
who, about 4 or 5 days after came with the cheefe of
his friends and other attendance, with the aforesaid
S((uanto. Witli whom, after friendly entertainmente
it some gifts given him, they made a peace with him
which hath now continued this 24 years."

During the spring following their arrival in the
country Sijuauto tauglit tliem how to plant and culti-
vate corn. In the wonls of Bradford, "Afterwards
they (as many as wer able) began to plant ther corns,
in which service Squanto stood them in great stead,
showing them both ye manner how to set it, and after
how to dress & tend it. Also he tonld them excepte
they gott fish <te set with it (in these old grounds) it
would come to nothing, and he showed them yt midle
of April tliey should have store enough come up ye
brooke, by which they begane to biiild, and tauglit
them how to take it, and wher to get other provis-
sions necessary for tliera ; all of which they found
true by triall <fe experience."

The foregoing brief extract furnishes ample food
for thought and retlection. In view of subsequent cal-
umnies and vilifications so industriously and so suc-
eessfuly outpoured upon the aboriginal settlers and
owners of the soil by tliose who unjustly deprived
them of their birthright, thi.s evidence of their civiliz-
ation, toleration and humanity is no less startling tlian
surprising and pleasing — it is so far removed from
and so completely negatives tiie generally accepted
view of the bloodthirsty hostility of the Indians

*l L

118

Gathered Waiflets.

toward the early settlers. Bradford's testimony as
given above is amply buttressed and supported by
able and unprejudiced autliorities during all the years
since ; but in spite of all the evidence to the contrary
the prejudices and falsehoods of the past are still
fondly maintaine I and propagated to justify the sinis-
ster conduct and injustice of the white man in earlier
times. A bibliograpliy of all the works giving simi-
lar testimony to Bradford's concerning the philan-
tliropy and friendship of the Indians, and which they
manifested toward the early settlers, would iill a
large volume, but we must be content with that of a
few only. These we shall select from among those
wlio made a careful study of the Indian character
through long years of residence among and associa-
tion with them in widely different parts of the coun-
try, men amply qualified to observe and pass judgment,
men of probity and candor, men whom the historians
and scholars of the world accept as authorities.

TESTIMONV OK CADWAI,I.ADKR COLDEN.

Cadwallader C'olden in his great work, "The History
of the Five Indian Nations" — and these have been ad-
mittedly the most cruel and relentless Indians and far-
thest removed from civilization — says :

"The hospitality of these Indians is no less remark-
able than their other virtues ; as soon as any stranger
comes they are sure to offer him victuals. If there be
several in the company, and come from afar, one of
their best houses is cleaned an<l given up for their
entertainment. Tlieir complaisance on these occasions
goes even farther tlian Christian civility allows of, as
they have no otlier rule for it than their furnishing

An Hour With the Puritans and Pilgrims. Ill)

their guest with everything they think will be agree-
able to him I can give two strong instances of

the hospitality of the Moliawks which fell under my
own observation ; and which show that they have the
very same notion of hospitality which we find in tlie
ancient poets.

"When I was last in the llohawk country, the
Sachems told nie tl: at they liad an Englishman among
their people, a servant who liad run away from his
master in Xew York. I immediately tould them that
they must deliver him up. >'o, they answered, we
never serve any man so who puts himself under our
protection. On this I insisted on the injury tliey
(lid thereby to Ids master; and tliey aUowe<l it might
be an injury, and replied, thougli we never will deliver
him up we are willing to pay the value of the servant
to the master.

"Another man made his escape from tlie gaol of
Albany where he was in prison on an execution for
debt; the Mohawks received 1, ;i, and as they pro-
tected him against the Sheriff and his officers, tliey not
only paid the debt for him, but gave him land, over
and above sufficient for a good farm, thereon he lived
when I was last there. To this it may be added, all
their extraordinary visits are accompanied with giv-
ing and receiving presents of some value ; as we learn
likewise from Homer was the practice in old times.

"Theft is very scandalous among them; and it is
necessary it should be so among all Indians, since they
have no locks but those of their minds to preserve
their goods.

"After their prisoners are secured they never offer
them the least mal-treatment, l)ut, on the (Contrary, will

120

Gatiiebkd Waiflets.

starve themselves rataer than snfler them to want;
and I have been always assured that there is not one
instance of their offering the least violence to the chas-
tity of any woman that was their captive.

" There is one vice which Indians have all fallen into
since their acquaintance with the Christians, and of
which they could rot be found guilty before that time,
that is drunkenness. The traders with whom they
chieily converse are so far from giving them any ab-
horrence of this vice that they encourage it all they
can, not only for the liquor that they sell, but tliat they
may have an opportunity to impose upon them. And
this, as they chiefly drink spirits, has destroyed
greater numbers than all their wars and diseases put
together."

TESTIMONY OF DE LA PATRIE.

Monsieur De la Patrie, in his "History of North
America," says : ""When we speak of the Five Nations
in France, they are thought, by a common mistake, to
be mere barbarians always thirsting after human blood;
but their true character is very different. They are
indeed the most formidable people in North America,
and, at the same time, are so politick and judicious as
well can be conceived, and this appears from the man-
agement of all the affairs which they transact, not only
with the French and English, but likewise with almost
all the Indian nations of this vast continent."

TESTIMONY OF GEOBUE CATLIN.

Seventy-five years ago when countless thousands of
Buffaloes roamed the western plains of this country,
and the tepees of the Indians were the only habita-
tions, the artist, George Catlin, ventured thither to

An HofH With the Puritans and Pilqrims. 121

sturly and depict the rod man in his home. As apt
with pen as pencil lie has given to the world his monu-
mental volumes " The North Amt^rican Indians." In
his opening chapter he records : " I have roamed about
from time to time during seven or eight years, visiting
and associating with some three or four hundred thou-
sand of these people, under an almost infinite variety
of circumstances ; and from the many and decided vol-
untary acts of their hospitality and kindness, I feel
bound to pronounce them by nature, a kind and hospi-
table people. I have been welcomed generally in their
country, and treated to the best that they could give
me, without any charges made for my board ; they have
often escorted me through their enemies' country at
some hazard to their own lives, and aided me in pass-
ing mountains and rivers with my awkward baggage ;
and under all these circumstances of exposure, no
Indian ever betrayed me, struck me a blow, or stole
from me a shilling's worth of my property that I am
aware of. . . .

" The Indians of North America . . . were
originally the undisputed owners of the soil, and got
their title to the lands from the Great Spirit who cre-
ated them on it, — were once a happy and flourishing
people, enjoying all the comforts and luxuries of life
which they knew of, and consequently cared for ! —
were sixteen millions in numbers, and sent that num-
ber of daily prayers to t'.ie Almighty, and thanks for
His goodness and protection. Their country was
entered by the white men, but a few hundred years
since; and thirty millions of these are now scuffling
for the goods and luxuries of lite, over the bones and
ashes of *"'elve millions of red men; six millions of

122

Qathebed Waiflets.

whom have fallen victims to the smallpox, and the re-
mainder to the sword, the bayonet and whiskey; all
of which means of their death and destruction have
been introduced and visited upon them by acquisitive
white men ; and by white men air j, whose forefathers
were welcomed and embraced in the land where the
poor Indian met and fed them with ' ears of green
corn and with pemican.'

"Of the two millions remaining alive at this time,
about one million, four hundred thousand are already
the miserable victims and dupes of white men's
cupidity, degraded, discouraged, and lost in the wilder-
ing maze that is produced by whiskey and its concomi-
tant vices; and the remaining number are yet un-
aroused and un "nticed from their wild haunts or their
primitive modes by the dread of love of white men and
their allurements."

Of their civilization and everyday life, Williams,
in his "History of Vermont," A.D. 1794, records:
"Among the savages hospitality prevailed to a high de-
gree, and acted with its full force. The Europeans
everj-vvhere found the most friendly and cordial recep-
tion when they first came among the savages; and from
their hospitality they derived all tht assistance the
savages could afford them. It was not until disputes
and differences liad taken place that the Indians be-
came unfriendly. Even now an unarmed, defenseless
stranger tliat repairs to them for relief and protection
is sure to find safety and assistance in their hospitality.
The friendsliip of the Indian is always a very strong
and vigorous affection. His passions unsubdued, un-
disciplined and ungoverned, always act with force and
vigor; whatever be the object of them, the passion
itself is always impetuous and strong. No bounds are

Ax HoiiR With the PuRtTAWn and Pit.orims. 12.T

set to his resentment and revenge wlien injured ; and
no length of time will obliterate the memory of a
favor. The same impetuosity an<l perseverance with
which he pursnes his enemy, is employed to assist and
preserve his friend. In this respect the Indian attach-
ments have fully e((ualled anything that is to be foun<i
in the history of man. Several of their best concerted
expeditions have failed through the an.xiety of an in-
dividual to preserve a friend from the common ven-
geance and destruction.

" Trained up to the most refinetl cunning and dissim-
ulation in war the Indian carries nothing of this into
the affairs of commerce ; but is fair, open and honest
in his trade, lie was accustomed to no falsehood or
deception in tlie management of liis barter. And he
was astonished at the deceit, knavery, an<l fraud of the
European traders. He had no bolts or locks to guard
against stealing, nor did he ever conceive his property
was in any danger of being stolen by any of his tribe.
All that train of infamous and unmanly vices, which
arise from avarice, were almost unknown to the savage
state. Lying and falsehood were viewed with horror
and detestation. When they found these vices com-
mon among some of the Europeans, tlie Indians
viewed tliem as a cornipt and odious race, in whose
truth, justice and declarations, no faith could be placed.
They had no name for adultery or rape. Quarreling,
contention and discord with their numerous ill effects
v\ ere but little known among tlie members of tlie same
tribe."

Benjamin Franklin also gave testimony before the
thrones and courts of Europe and elsewhere to the
early civilization and humanity of the American In-

124

Gatiikrkd Waiki.eth.

diang, and in this lie is supported by such a galaxy of
statesmeD and autliurs that their mere enumeration
would reiiuire unpardonable limits.

It cannot be denied that when the Indians were
decimated, debauched, persecuted, robbed of their
lands, and were brought to bay, they did just what all
animal nature — brute and human — does under the cir-
cumstances, — contended for their freedom and rights,
and stnick back as best they knew. For defeniliug
their persons and property from the encroachments
and robberies of the wliites, and avenging their
wrongs, they have been denounced in violent lang-
uage and in immeasured terms ; but for cold-blooded
bnitality and fiendish atrocity, their worst deeds are
multiplied and surpas.sed by those of their white op-
pressors and traducers.

SIIRVIVAI, OK ITKITAN INTOI.KRANCK.

^lauy of the descendants and successore of the Puri-
tans, even in our day, have not discovered that the
world has taken vast stri<les forward and upward
since the landing of the Jlayflower. The bigotry,
intolerance, and superlative arrogance that prompted
Endicott. a typical Puritan, to cut out the cross from
the flag, and (iovernor Dudley, another, to leave
a legacy to Hananl CVdlege to provide an annual lec-
ture against "popery," may not now be so openly
avowed, but wlio that knows our decaying country
towns, or centei-s of population where descendants of
the Pilgrims and Puritans, and their like, are in the
ascendant, will deny tliat their bigotry, intolsrance and
proscriptive sentiments still survive and are as opera-
tive for evil and injustice as in earlier times. They

An IIoi'R With tiik Pi^ritanh and PiuiBiMrt. 12.")

Meem to (leli((ht in revelling; in the intolerent, unjii»t
and murky atmoapliure of the past rather than to
breathe in the spirit of tnith, riglit, and justice in the
Munsiiine of tiie present. It was only last year that a
distinguished e.x-(toverni>i' of tliis State, lion. John I).
Long, delivered iin address at the ter-centenary oele-
bration of the foundation of the First Church in
Plymouth. lie had respect for tlie truth, and he told
his hearers some of the milder shortcomings of the
Puritans. This aroused a whirlwind of opposition
and denuncittticm not only among his hearers but also
throughout the country — their periodical publications,
ministers, portly matrons and elder spinsters joining
in the refrain. They have incense in abundance to
burn at the shrine of adulation, V)ut only withering
contempt an<l denunciation for even a moiety of un-
complimentary truth — as ir^ )lerant as ever.

"I am a Puritan of the Puritans " — like many an-
other — publicly, loudly ajd persistently proclaimed
an honored son of Massachusetts on the rostrum, in
the lialls of legislation, and in the press during all the
years i-f his lengthened life. Proudly, in stilted phrase,
and with all tlie art of oratory that he could com-
mand, he presented to the State of ISlassachusetts the
manuscript cf>py of " Bradford's History of Plimoth
Plantation," recently brought over from England, and
from which much of what I have said has been quoted
verbatim el literatum, and in an impassioned peror-
ation, as published iu the press reports at the time —
which he, doubtless, would have been ghid to have
considered the oratorical effort of his life— in the
characteristic vaunting language so freipiently encoun-
tered when anything concerning the Pilgrims and

11 '

13(1

GATIlKBKn WArKLKTK.

Puritans is under consiileration, bbiiI : "Aside from
the Kospelg as they came from the hands of the in-
Rpired writers there is no greater }mnk in the world."
On a little further reflection, the fervor anil thrill of
the occasion having passed away, perhaps it dawned
upon his mind tiiat the gospels as tliey came from the
hands of the inspired writers are no longer in exis-
tence, which would leave the remarkable work of
Kradford the greatest book in the world ! — or perhaps
he may have subseijuently read the book and been so
surprised and disappointed at its contents that his ad-
miration dropped to more commensurate and com-
mendable proportions. Tliis portion of his speech
has been modified, and it now appears in the book : —
"There is nothing like it in human annals since the
story of Bethlehem." Save the mark !

Those who knew him can never think that George
Frisbie Hoar had ever read the book or been familiar
with its contents when he made this speech. No one
who ever knew him can believe that he was capable
of so lowering himself or lending himself to so endorse
such a record of crime, commonplaces, and the frailties
of human nature. No one wlio ever knew him can
think that he could ever believe and profess the mor-
bid religious tenets or share the sentiments of the Pil-
grims and Puritans, nor lend his presence to, much less
participate in, the whippings at the post, the brandings,
the ear croppings, the tongue borings witli red hot
irons, the hanging of witches ; nor that he could ever
sanction their tlieocratie, arl)itrary and intolerant civil
government, have framed or aided in the execution of
the law of banishment against Itoger AN'illiams, the un-
christian penal enactments and their more unchristian

An Hoi'R With tiik Puritans and Pilorims. 127

pnforcement UKiiinHt (juakvrx, " PapiMta," unil others,
their cruel and unjuHt treatment of the Indiana, the
debauchery of Indian women, and their many other
acts of injustice and wrong.

It may be well to axk why men compromise their in-
telligence and manhood and prefer rhetorical display
to truth; and if the loud and oft proclaimed admira-
tion, loyalty and love for the Puritamt and their con-
duct, as recorded by Bradford himself — even when
controverted and negatived by the conduct of those
who proclaim them — constitute greatness, and for
whom monuments of sculptured marble and emluring
bronze are erected at great expense in public places to
perpetuate their memories!

conclusion.

Where the evidence is so abundant, clear, conclu-
sive and admitted — where "lie who runs may read" —
no attempt at analysis or elucidation is necessary'. It
is clear from the admissions of the Pilgrims and Puri-
tans themselves that they were arrogant, narrow, big-
oted, intolerant, mercenary, and sinful. No words in
the English language can be i'ound to make these alle-
gations more specific or emphatic than they have re-
corded against themselves. The crimes of murder,
sodomy, adultery, fornication, perjury, defalcation, de-
ception, intolerance, uncharii.bleness, and other un-
christian degradations and shortcomings of human
nature, are proven against them by an abundance of
unquestioned evidence.

But it may be asked, what good v.'ill it do at the
beginning of the twentieth century to put them in the
public pillory and expose them to the scorn, contempt,

128

Oathired Waifi.eth.

and rightoouH condemnation of others! This reason-
able and proper question deserves a reasonable and
proper answer. In tliis connection it is sufficient to
say that the sliortconiinKs and cruel injustice of the
Pilgrims and Puritans did not end with their day, but
in one fonn or another — although somewhat emascu-
luti'd and attenuated, and in a less formal, public and
offensive manner — has survivi'd all the years since and
is still operative. We have only to recall in merest
outline tlie bitterness, persecution and injustice dealt
out by them and their descendants and successors, dur-
ing all the years since their coming, to Roman Catho-
lics, the barbarity attendant upon the celebration of
the fiendish slaughter of Father Basle when his scalp,
for which a bounty of one hundred pounds was offere<l
and paid by the Great and General Court of Massachu-
setts, was carried in public pro'''" si",: thronp;h the
streets of Boston and grossest indignities heaped
thereon, the bigotry that prompted the cutting out of
the cross from the flag by Governor Endicott "because
it savored of poperie, "the legacy that Governor Dud-
ley left to Harvard College to provide for an annual
lecture against Roman ^ itholicism and Romon Catho-
lics, the outpouring of damnation and wrs'h that
greeted the enactment of the Quebec Act by England,
the violent debates in the legislatures of the different
states against Catholics and the Catholic Church at
the time of the adoption of the Constitution, the alien
and sedition laws to harass and curtail the rights of
Roman Catholics and the persecutions thereunder, the
burning of tlie Ursuline convent on Mount Benedict,
near Boston, as a result of pulpit denunciation and ap-
peals to unchristian hate in which Reverend Lyman

Aw Kiii'n With this Pi-KiTANfi and Piuirihr. 129

Beccber, father of Henry Ward Beeoher, of unBsvory
Beecher-Tilton notoriety, was a leader, and for whicli
no compencation Iihm yet been made, tlie murders, bnm-
ing of churobeg, itcbooU and convents and other perse-
cutions of the Know Nothings throughout the country,
the more recent efforts along these same lines by the
A. P. A., the proscription, opposition and ostracism so
generally and systematically manifested against Cath-
olics in every community today wherever it is possi-
ble — and their numbers are the only barrier.

Arrogance, intolerance, proscription and hate are
the well kno«rn and admitted foundation stones of
Puritanism, and the civil and religions liberty that
we enjoy, which are such proud distinguishing charac-
teristics of our country, and of which all patriotic and
fair minded people are so justly proud, and which
have contributed so much to its greatness, owe nothing
whatever to Puritanism, to its doctrines, or to its prac-
tices. In tlie interent «^ truth and justice, admiration,
thanksgiving ana praise should be bestowed where
due and wii>iheld where undeserved, and this cannot
be too often nor too publicly proclaimed and empha-
sized.

It is well and truly said that " nothing is ever settled
until it is settled right," and this alone, if no other
reason existed, is sufficient to prompt every efTort to
expose and dethrone error, falsehood, and injustice —
to the end that truth may reign ar.J right may rule.

REMINISCENT AND OTHEEWISE.

LIFE IN IHE EASTERN TOWNSHIPS OF THE PROVINCE OP
QUEBEC, CANADA, FIFTY YEARS AGO.

" Sliould auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mindf
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne? "

THE century (nineteenth) now drawing to a close
has been the most marvelous in the world's
history. So readily do we adapt ourselves to
changed and improved conditions that it is hard to
realize the manifold and wonderful changes wrought
during this brief space of time.

Many are now living wlio saw the birtli of the luci-
fer match, that great invention which has spread to
the furthermost limits of the civilized world and which
has now become so indispensable. Suppose this
simple looking match and all knowledge thereof blotted
out of existence and the world thrown back upon
primitive methods to preserve or obtain fire — what
then? Is it any wonder that the ancients regarded fire
as possessing attributes of the Deity and so entitled
to their homage and worship?

Others are now living who were in existence long
years before stoves came into general use in the smaller
hamlets and remote settlements for heatiig and cook-
ing, and who well remember when the first clock,

REMINlaCENT AND OTHERWISE. 131

v-i iti.. 'jignu and carpet was brought into the neighbor-
hood to beci'Tie the nine days' wonder and its owner
the envied o le in the settlement.

A^d ' 'any more there are whose birth antedates or
was contemporary with the electric telegraph, locomo-
tive railway, power loom, sewing machine, mowing
machine, harvester, cream separator, and the like,
while those not now beyond mature youth recall the
advent of the bicycle, trolley car, telephone, automo-
bile and the thousand and one discoveries and inven-
tions which have blotted out time and space, lightened
the burdens of the toilers, and which so minister to the
comfort and happiness of all as to add years of longev-
ity to the span of life.

KALEIDOSCOPIC CHANGES.

These kaleidoscopic changes follow each other so
fast, and they so soon become so indispensable and
absorbing, that they seem to swallow up and obscure
if they do not entirely obliterate the past.

However interesting and important these may be
to the student and philosopher, neither time nor space
will permit us to consider even the most important
and valuable of them categorically, chronologically, or
in the order of their importance and value as contrib-
uting factors to our high, complex-, and rapidly advanc-
ing civilization.

A much less pretentious and more agreeable task is
proposed, which it is hoped will not be found without
interest to the reader. It is to try to furnish the youth
of the present day, particularly those residing in the
Eastern Townships, wherein the writer was born and
where his youth was passed, with a picture of the

i:!2

Gatiiebed Waiflets.

everyday life of tLe people before the advent of most
of the wonder-working and revolutionining agents al-
luded to — when primitive, very primitive conditions
very generally prevailed throughout this part of the
country.

It is not claimed that there were no exceptions in
individual cases or in a particular locality to what fol-
lows — no general description will apply in every case,
especially when sketched in merest outline — but it is
confidently believed that the substantial accuracy of
what is herein related will be affirmed by those in
nearly every neighborhood now nearing or beyond the
three- score and ten years of the scriptures.

THE ORIOINAL SETTLERS.

The original setti 'ra were largely strangers from
many lands and from many conditions in life. The
opening up to ownership and settlement of that por-
tion of tlie Pi'ovince of Quebec now known as the
Eastern Townships — at that time the forest prim-
eval — as has always in the history of the world been
true elsewhere when sub-<lividing and conveying to
individuals in fee simple territory obtained by dis-
covery or conquest, attracted wide attention and inter-
est — not only in the United States but also throughout
the British Isles where England made great efforts to
people this part of the country with her subjects to pre-
vent it from falling into the hands of the earlier
French colonists along tlie banks of the St. Lawrence.
Tlie country to the southward had been occupied for
more than one hundred and fifty years, its forests were
depleted, its soil exhausted, and now some of the
more adventurous and enterprising among them, and

Rkminiscent and Otherwise. 13;)

who were devotedly loyal to the stars and stripes,
took advantage of the new opportunities offered to
add to their worldly possessions and to further their
personal interests. Loyalty to their own interests and
not loyalty to any king or oonntry prompted them to
remove to this part of Canada, whither they also
brought their old time enterprise, skill and ability.
Here they built roads, bridges, saw and grist mills,
tanneries, stores and the like. They did their full
share in the building up and development of this
part of the country, and by their accomplishments and
contributions they wrote the brightest pages in the
early history of the Townships. They left to their
descendants and successors the legacy of sterling enter-
prise, earnest and successful endeavor, thrift, frugality
and manliness— laudable traits, the afterglow of which
still survives to glorify and inspire.

A few of tlie early Dutch settlers of New Amster-
dam and along the Hudson river also immigrated to
these parts, but whether because of the paucity of their
numbers or because of tlieir phlegmatic temperament
and lethargy tliey were never a factor in the develop-
ment and progress of their new home. The antiquary
and historian will find but little to reward their most
energetic and persistent endeavors to prove their pres-
ence in the country.

The coming and settlement of a very considerable
contingent of Hessian ((iermun) soldiers added consid-
erable to the numbers of tlie early settlers. Their pre-
vious history was such tliat they found it desirable if
not very obligatory to obscure if not to wlioUy conceal
their identity — and this may serve to e.xplain why so
little is known of their earlier history, why they and

I -
i '■'

iUi

134

Gathered Waiflets.

their descendants have been so reticent and reluctant
to contribute to the historical knowledge of the Town-
ships, and of their important material contribution to
the development and welfare of their adopted country.
It is well known that Xing George III hired about
thirty thousand Hessian (German) soldiers to make
war upon his own flesh and blood in the revolted col-
onies in America. These were to be returned to their
own country with a stipulated price to be paid for each
soldier who did not return, and the price to be paid
for three persons woundeil was to be the same as for
one who did not return. Twelve thousand five hundred
and si.xty did not return, and for these and the serv-
ices of those who did return, England paid one million
seven hundred and seventy thousand pounds sterling.
It is a matter of record that the loss iu battle and by
disease was much less than the number of the miss-
ing — and desertion explains the difference. It will be
remembered that the colonists in rebellion were in
sore distress for munitions of war, food and clothing
for their own men, and that when Abercrombie sur-
rendered at Saratoga it was with the utmost difficulty
and embarrassment that they were able to furnish
food for the surrendered prisoners of war. This was
equally true elsewhere and the colonists were only too
glad to connive at the desertion of the Hessian mer-
cenaries, who had no heart in the war, and who were
only too glad to avail themselves of an opportunity to
escape. Of course they might be temporarily toler-
ated by the people against whom they bore arms, bat
they could never expect to be treated as other immi-
grants were treated. What more natural than for
thern to seek to make a home on British territory,

Reminiscent and Otherwise.

135

but even here greatest reticence and secrecy was nec-
essary lest British law take cognizance of tlieir pres-
ence, place tliein under arrest as deserters, and re-
turn them to Germany to save the excliecqucr of the
British government. An iidded proof tliat these
settlers were Hessians and not Dutch Is found in
their language, which was German and not Dutch;
that Piechert, Lucke, Diehl, Boemehauer, Beinhardt,
Schmidt, Sachs, Kraiitz, Rheuiter, Schultheiss, and
many others well known throughout the Townships,
now changed and modernized, are not Dutch but Ger-
man names. Whatever their origin or history, no
blame attache? to them. They were manly and never
set up the claim of the over-worked myth of the East-
ern Townships — the L^nited Empire Loyalists — nor
did they ever grovel to the level of mendicants and
implore government aid, public recognition, or other
emolument. They brouglit with them robust manhood,
agricultural skill, industry and persistence. As a con-
tributing class to the growth and welfare of the coun-
try, and especially to the amenities of the communities
in which they dwelt, they took deservedly high rank
that richly entitles them to a meed of recognition and
praise.

In early times large accessions were made to the
numbers of colonists by immigrants from Ireland and
Scotland, tlie opr- manifestntion of whose love and
loyalty to the traditions of their respective countries
and t'.e every day life of the people seemed like a rare
exotic in the wilderness. They well and manfully as-
serted themselves in subduing the wilderness and
making the country habitable and attractive, but the
Family Compact, so-called, held their repulsive and
unjust sway in Quebec, and as their sons could hope

ih rf

136

Gathebed Waiflets.

for no recognition, advancement or honor in the land

of their birth, becanse

" The torch that would light them through dignity's

way
Must be caught from the pile where their country ex-
pires,"
they buried the ashes of the pioneers in the land that
they subdued by their toils and hardships and then
betook themselves to new homes where equal oppor-
tunities are given to all. Where formerly Irish and
Scotch settlements were frequently encountered few
who bear Irish and Scotch names will now be found.
The colonist from England was seldom found en-
gaged in reclaiming farms from the forest. He brought
with him the national traits of arrogance and domina-
tion. He was a government favorite and it was his
birthright to fill official station and should none exist
that measured up to his standard one must be sup-
plied, even though it be an unnecessary sinecure. He
was not slow to claim government favoritism and
government bounty — but the subjugation of the frown-
ing forests and the promotion of agricultural interests
in early times owe no appreciable debt to the English
colonist.

The Habitants, whose ancestors had settled along
the valley of the St. Lawrence more than two hundred
years previously, still clung to the home of their child-
hood and were less in evidence in the townships fifty
years ago than they are to-day. It is true many of them
found temporary employment in the lumbering opera-
tions and about the saw mills of the settlers of that
time ; and their long processions to the land of Uncle
Sam in their two- wheeled carts " to mek it de hay on

Reminiscent and Otherwise. 187

de Stait, me!" in the summer time, are well remem-
bered, but their abiding place— their Lone— was in
the "French Country" away off towards la belle Ri-
viere.

These different elements from widely different coun-
tries and conditions, met upon a neutral ground for
a common purpose; and while cherishing the mem-
ories of the land from which they sprung, they
sank all mooted questions of religion, nationality and
politics in the greater one of mutual toleration, mutual
inter-dependence and mutual helpfulness.

Recalling this serves to awaken old associations and
old memories, and when we take a retrospective glance
we see in the past only that which is useful, good and
ennobling, if circumscribed and humble.

A RETROSPECT.

Changed conditions may open up new opportuni-
ties, new ambitions, new responsibilities but the mem-
ories that cluster around the old homestead and the
home life of onr youth are the most sacred, the most
tender, tlie most distinct, the most pleasurable and en-
during of all. How satisfying it is and how pardon-
able the pride to which they give birth, to recall after
the lapse of fifty years these laudable traits in the
early settlers, and it is with a sense of thankfulness
we embrace this opportunity to bear testimony to
their truthfulness.

We turn our gn-ie backward a half century but we
see none who were then active on life's stage and
whom we weU knew ; we journey for days along the
highways but we see no familiar face; we call at their
old homes and only the stranger greets us. One after

188

Gathkbkd WxlFLBTa

another have the pioneers passed away until all, all are
Rone.

We inquire about them and the niche they filled
only to be told for the most part that no one now
knows anything about them ; we ask for a copy of the
local history that its pages may refresh our fading
recollections and give some answer to our question-
ings and learn — oh! unwelcome revelation! — that
through culpable indifference and neglect no record
of the early settlers who founded and aided in devel-
oping the Eastern Townsliips, of their enterprise and
daring, of their privations and hardships, of their toils
and triumphs, has ever been made to embalm their
good deeds in the pages of history by "the art pre-
servative of arts " — to be at once their monument and
the pride and stimulus of their descendants and suc-
cessors.

With uncomplimentary thoughts uppermost in our
mind and with a saddened heart we turn from the un-
pleasant contemplation and strive to recall and record
some of the conditions under which they lived, and
what would be some of the most striking changes that
would confront them did they now re-visit the familiar
scenes of their active life.

Doubtless what would impress them most forcibly
would be the disappearance of the vast forests which
then abounded and stretched away in every direction,
and the extensive fertile farms and tidy homes of com-
fort which have taken their place.

HARDSHIPS AND TEIAL8 OF THE PI0NEEE8.

Villages and habitations that are now in an open
country and discernible as far as the range of vision

Reminiscent and Otherwise. 139

can reach were then mostly but a few little log cabins
hidden by a dense forest gro«-th of mighty pines, hem-
locks, cedars, tamarack, beech, birch, maple, and other
irdigenous trees. The few acres, comparatively, of ara-
ble land reclaimed from the wilderness in their day
conld only by courtesy or a stretch of language be dig-
nified by the name of farms, while tonlay they would
see teeming acres limited only by the extent of coun-
try, and the extensive and forbidding forests of their
time entirely blotted out.

The hum of agricultural machinery and the thunder
ing locomotive, neither of which they ever heard or
saw, mi!?ht cause tliem to doubt if they were in the
world they left or whether they were not sojourning in
a more favored sphere ;— confronted with modem con-
ditions of living and travel, with the marveUous
mechanism now common in every walk of life, and
the varied applications of steam and electricity, they
might be expected to be certain of it.

But to return to the routine of every day life.
The new-comer, often accompanied by his trusting,
hopeful, helpful -vife, and a few small cliildren, with
little or no money, and all their worldly belongings in
a crude bo.x, carpet bag, or tied in a bundle— strangers
among strangers— alighted from a rude stage at the
post office, or possibly having made the journey on
foot from the place of disembarkation, carrying all
their belongings, and sought for a shelter for the
night.

They were usually given a warm welcome at the first
log cabin large enough to accommodate them, as its
occupants, prompted by a fellow feeling, recaU a simi-
lar favor extended to themselves not long since, and

140

Gatiikrkd Waiflkts.

the best the cabin affords is cheerfully shared with the
latest accession to the neighborhood. Land is taken
up and the toil begins of carving out a home from
untoward surroundings. An axe is bought at the only
store for miles around, and which also serves as a post
oftiee ; — trees are felled and soon a log cabin takes
their place above a hole dug in the ground which be-
comes an apology for a cellar.

The spaces between tiie logs are filled with mud or
moss or a combination of both, logs are hewn for a
floor an<l cedar is rifted for a covering for the roof

An apology for a door is provided, wiiich swings
upon M'ooden hinges, and its hard wood latch is opera-
ted iV.im without by a latcli-string which is withdrawn
at night so the door cannot be openetl from the out-
side. A crude fireplace is fashioned of rough stones
in one end of the cabin, the family moves in, and life
is begun in the new home.

COOKINO UTEN-ilLS.

In many cases, and sometimes for years, a single
iron kettle having three legs, an iron cover, and a
large bail, known as a baking kettle, and in many
places as a Dutch oven, was the only cooking utensil
on the premises, and many a savory whobsome meal
was cooked therein while buried in and covered with
burning coals. A little later came the old-fashioned
glazed earthen teapot, which became its associate and
companion upon the heartli. Corn bread and oaten
cakes were baked before a " bread board," set up edge-
ways and a little aslant before the open fire.

Baking pans, kettles and other hollow iron ware
were soon after introduced and came into general use.

Remikisckxt and Otiikrwimk. 141

Ovens made of brick, the manufacture of which wa«
undertaken by «ome of the more enterprising, added
greatly to the culinary department of the household
but many an elegant roast of beef and mutton and
weU browned turkey were stiU cooked for company or
the Chnstmas dinner upon the spit in the tin baker
or tin kitchen, before the open Are in the Hreplace.

The holi.iay season, extending from Christmas until
after New Year's, was largely given up to visiting rel-
atives, family reunions and innocent mirth. Holly
and mistletoe may not have gnir.ed the walls of the
humble habitations, but loyal friendships, hearty wel-
comes, good cheer, and generous hospitality were no
indifferent substitutes.

As families were usually large and cabins small,
economy of space was very essential. Under many of
the be<ls in the tlwelliugs, and all beds were then of the
old high post style iield together by a bed cord made
tense by a lever or bed wrencli, were trundle beds
which were drawn out upon the floor for use at night.
These were often supplemented by bunks which were
folded up and used as seats during the day and even-
ing.

BIKFICILTIKS OF TRAVEr,.

There was then in all Canada not a single mile of
railway and turni)ike roa.ls were well nigh impassable
especially during the spring and fall when nearly alJ
travel was practically at a standstiU, and when distant
journeys would be more readily undertaken on horse-
back or on foot than with a team. At such times
when It became necessary to go to the grist mill the
grain was bound upon the horse's back and the owner
trudged alongside leading the animal.

R-!

I^;i

142

Gatuerkd Waiflets.

In many CRtet the roads wera but the sinuong wayii
improviged through the foregtg by lumbermen for
hauling out timber, logg, and wood, and which, by
continued uge and improvement, have become the pub-
lic highways of the country.

The territory Vjeing substantially a foregt it was per-
fectly natural tiiat lumbering operations, peeling hem-
lock bark, shaving shingles, and the like, would be the
principal occupation of the people for many years suc-
ceeding the earliest settlements. While large (juanti-
ties of lumber were cut and exported to the United
States the pri;'e paid therefor was so low that only the
most valuable and easily obtained was thus utilized.

rhere being tiien no railways for transportation or
rivers available for this purpose the expense for haul-
ing logs from a distance to the saw mills, and the
lumber over very poor roads to Lake Champlain, was
so great, that little or no margin of profit was left to
stimulate the industry or reward the efforts of the
more enterprising who engageil in such business. Nev-
ertheless, it was a sight tifty years ago to see tlie pro-
cession of teams — twenty, thirty, forty in line — aU
heavily laden with lumber going to Missisquoi bay,
and later to the mouth of Pike river, from the differ
ent saw mills to the north and east, wiience the lum-
ber was shipped to Whitehall, Troy, Albany and other
places to the south which were accessible by way of
the Hudson river.

Receiving such poor returns for their labor seemed
to beget a mania for the destruction of the forests so
that the land might be reduced to a state of cultiva-
tion and a better compensation be obtained for their
labor.

Urminiscknt and Otherwisk. 143

Few men can appreciBte, and fewer still will ever
know, with what toil and hardships this task was accom-
plished.

DKKTROYINO VAU'ABLK TIMBKR LANDS.

DHring the (Iryest portion of the year fires were
started in the choppings of the previous winter and
they were encouraged to extend into and devour the
uncut forest and consume wliat tonlay would he most
valuable timber. These e.vtensive fires ra^ed in all
directions, filling the air with clouds of smoke by duy
and their seething flames lighting up and making
lurid, fantastic, and thrilling pictures by night as they
seized upon and devoured their prey as a roaring wild
beast might seize upon and devour an innocent victim.

Stretching awpy from west to east along the nortli-
em boundaries of New York, Vermont and Xew
Hampshire to the State of Maine for a southern
boundary, an<l with the St. Lawrence river for a
northern boundary, nothing now remains in the in-
cluded territory of the e.vtensive forests of valuable
timber that then covered the land as with a protecting
mantle.

It is now a bootless task to ask if a clearer insight
and forecast would not have prompted the exercise of
a wiser discretion and spared at least a portion of the
wealth of the forests so wantonly destroyed to meet
the wants of a later time.

In many places the hard wood ashes were gathere<I
up by the more entei-prising, the lye extracted by
very crude appliances and boiled into potash in great
iron kettles, which was then hauled by slow moving
t«am8 to the distant market of Montreal and an hon-
est dollar well earned thereby. In other places and

m
jji-

'J'

144

Gathered Waiflets.

especially along the highway leading from the village
of Bedford to PhiUipsburg on Missisquoi Bay, many
lime kilns were built and large quantities of lime was
bumed and sold to the settlers in other parts where
no limestone was available. With limestone and
wood then in abundance in this locality and competi-
tion sharp, many a bushel of lime was sold for five
cents ; and not infrequently dinner for purchaser and
team was included.

AVith the scarcity of wood which now exists and
better transportation facilities, so that supply may
be more easily and cheaply obtained elsewhere, but a
faint remnant of the industry now remains.

CLEARING LAND.

Old and young of the households found abundant
work, when other labors permitted, in clearing up the
land, piling up and burning the logs and odds and
ends which escaped the first burning, re-piling and
firing the embers, chinking up and around and urging
on the devouring element to consume the huge pine
and other stumps. With the aid of the light of the
fires this work was frequently extended long into the
night

From such work all returned so covered with smoke
and grime as to more nearly resemble ebony Negroes
from the banks of the river Congo than any of the
Caucasian race.

A coarse but substantial and satisfying meal was
then disposed of, then to humble and restful beds of
straw or corn husks, and up and at it again with the
earliest dawn for days and weeks together. Few there
are who now can realize, and fewer wiU ever know by

Reminiscent and Otherwise. 145

ej^erienee, the extent and severity of the exhansting
labor, approximating that usually performed by the
ox and the horse, which was necessary, and which wag
uncomplainingly and ungrudgingly given to subdue
the forests, to gather the great boulders and stones
wto walls and huge piles, and to give to the Eastern
Townships the fertile and attractive farms of to-day.

Crops of potatoes, com, wheat, rye, oats, buckwheat
beans and the like were worked in at first between the
stumps and stones and cultivated and harvested by
hand. The spade, hoe and grob-hoe did duty for the
plow and harrow of later years, and the scythe, sickle,
and hand rake for the mowing machines and horse
rakes of tonlay.

After a lapse of a few years, when the stumps be-
came somewhat decayed, and so more easy of removal
a bee would be made, when, to tlieir credit be it
recorded, aU the neighbors for miles around would
cheerfully gather with their o.x-teams and again prove
the truth of the old saying "many hands make light
work, and thus accomplish what would otherwise be
weU nigh impossible, and add several acres of weU
cleared land to the farm.

earliest farming implements.
Mowing machines, harvesters, and horse rakes had
not been invented; but had they been in existence
they wonhl have been as useless as a smoke stack upon
a wheelbarrow, as the land was too rough to permit of
their use, and the people for tlie most part were too
poor to buy them All hay and grain was cut with the
scythe and sickle-a large part of the grain and the
timothy grass for hayseed with the latter implement

146

Gathered Waiixets.

No threshing machines were then in existence and
many weary days were spent wielding the hand flail to
thresh the grain and hay seed.

Fanning mills of a crude type were coming into use,
but only those in better circumstances could afford to
buy them. The old hand fan, which many of the
present day never saw, was then in common use —
although even then some made use of the still more
ancient method of a gale of wind for winnowing ♦heir
grain.

Any farmer possessed of a modicum of mechanical
genius could make a hand fan, but when this wag be-
yond his ability he could get one made for him by a
more ingenious neighbor in exchange for labor, some
product of the farm, or other compensation.

It was made of thin hard wood, semi-circular in
shape and from five to six feet across the straight part,
or what would be the diameter of the circle. Around
the periphery was a rim some ten or twelve inches high
provided with two handles much like handles on a
basket, and which were located at convenient distances
apart. Into this was put as much of the threshed
grain and chaff as could be conveniently handled and
an up and down and partial rotary motion was im-
parted to it by the operator, when the chaff being
lighter would work up to the top and outer edge and
be blown off from the fan, leaving the grain behind.

VEGETABLE GROWING AND SUGAR MAKING.

Surplus cabbages, potatoes and other vegetables
that could not be contained in the hole under the
cabin, and which did duty as a cellar, were buried in
pits dug in the ground and covered with earth to a

Reminiscent and Otherwise. 147

sufficient depth to be beyond the reach of the frost,
where they usually remained until the followins
spring.

In the early spring time sap troughs were made of
bass-wood, poplar, ash, and similar wood and scorched
over an open brush Are to prevent checking later by
the sun when put into use. The maple trees were
tapped with a gouge chisel, the spouts were rifted
from cedar with the same gouge so as to fit, and a
great score or notch cut ir*o the tree with an axe above
the spout to increase the iiow of sap.

In the most level and open sugar woods the sap was
g'athered m barrels and puncheons securely fastened to
sleds drawn by oxen, but more frequently it was car-
ned m buckets and pails suspended from the shoulders
by neck-yokes. The potash kettles were scoured out
and again pressed into service to boil the sap.

These were usuaUy suspended over the butt end of a
sapling tree and upheld and supported by a convenient
stump or boulder. This gave good control of the boil-
ing sap and syrup, as they could easily be removed
from over the roaring lire when necessary by swinging
around the upper and counterbalancing end of the tree
top.

Many tons of sugar were so made and families of
several generations supplied therewith before the re-
fined white sugar of the cane was ever seen in these
parts; and while it usuaUy was very dark from the
charred sap troughs and from the smoke, smut, and
cinders from the open tire, it was not less appreciated
and useful.

Many can now recall the pleasant scenes and jolly
companions of the sugaring-off parties in the long ago.

148

Gathered Waiflets.

HOUSEHOLD RBQDISITES,

Soap as now in the market was then practically un-
known. The prudent, thrifty and practical housewife
and helpmate saved all the bones of the meat used
throughout the year, and all the waste fat and (grease
from the table, for soap grease with which to make the
year's supply of soap and so save much that is now
wasted, and thus add to their stock of this world's
goods.

It is now distinctly remembered that the moon exer-
cised great iniluenee over soap-making, but whether it
must be made in the full or new of the moon is now
forgotten.

Washing was often done in the neighboring brook
or spring, or beside a well in a trough dug out from a
large tree when these were not available. As wash
boards had not been invented, the hands and knuckles
did all the work ; — and peeled saplings supported by
convenient trees or crotched sticks did duty for clothes
lines.

Brooms made of broom corn as no., in use were
then unknown. The tidy housewife kept her house
clean with brooms of home manufacture, which were
made from balsam, cedar, or hemlock boughs, firmly
tiad upon a sapling for a handle, while the man of the
house, or some of his grown boys who were blessed
with a little mechanical skill, would make a more pre-
tentious one during the winter evenings by shredding
white or yellow birch from a sapling of suit ble size.

The blazing fire in the fireplace gave the needed
heat for comfort, and many times it was the only
available light for the household. As matches had
not come into general use, it was important to

REmwiaoENT AND Otherwise. 149

keep a continuous fire, and so be spared the slow and
^ing process of producing it with the flint and steeL
lo this end hemlock and pine knots were gathered in
the woods and pastures and one or more of them buried
in the coals in the flre-pkce every night and covered
with a mound of ashes, where they would usuaUy be
found as a huge coal of fire in the morning. Should
the work of covering up the knots and coals be indif-
ferently done so as to permit the accession of air aU
would be consumed and only ashes i^main.

Should the nearest neighbor be not too far away
some member of the family would be dispatche.1 with
the fire shovel to secure some live coals with which to
start a new fire ; but a watchful prudence rendered this
an irfretjuent occurrence.

TaUow dips and later molded tallow candles were
used for artificial light. Later the petticoat lamp, a
smaU lamp made of tin in which was burned sperm oil
was introduced and wa. in use many years before the
more cleanly and brilliant camphene, a preparation of
^cohol and spirits of turpentine, was introduced, and
which was later displaced by the kerosene oil of the
present time.

Lanterns were something of a rarity, and only the
oldest settlers could afford to own one. They were
made of tin punched full of various si;,ed and shaped
holes forming simple designs, cylindrical in form, in
which a can<lle was used for light-and they served at
best only to render the darkness more visible. Next
came s.juare lanterns made from smaU panes of glass
then circular ones of blown glass as now in use.

WIFE AND MOTHER.

Of the wife and mother it could be truthfully said,

150

Gathered Waiflets.

a8 it is said in the scriptures : "She hath done what
she could "—and she did it in full scriptural measure—
"pressed down and overflowing."

She not only reared a large family, which she always
kept neat, comfortable and tidy, and attended to all
other household duties, but also often lent a helping
hand in haying and harvesting time and other work
upon the farm. Fifty years ago it was no infrequent
sight to see the mother of the household in the iield
with her sickle reaping, with her fork and rake in the
hay field, or husking corn in the autumn time.

The work of the household at that time was far
more onerous than now, and it was performed without
many of the conveniences now availabb to expedite
the work and lighten the toil

For days and weeks together in the busy summer
time she and the daughters of the household milked the
cows of a very considerable dairy, cared for the milk,
churned the cream in the old fashioned, upright dasher
chum, made and packed the butter in addition to the
care of the home— the bmad making, house cleaning,
cooking, washing, and mending for her large family.

Hand looms for weaving were then found in many
homes and these added another burden to her many

cares.

No settler was content without the golden-footed
sheep upon his farm to supply him with cash from the
sale of the lambs, wholesome meat for his table, and
wool for clothing for the family, blankets, stockings,
mittens and the like. Much of the wool was carded
by hand, spun upon the old-fashioned spinning wheel,
wove upon the hand loom, and made up into various
garments and articles by hand.

Rkmwiscent and Otherwise. 151

Ample scope might here be given to a vivid imagin-
ation and a facile pen without risk of exaggerating
the difficulties of the task and the labor required to
perform it

It was no uncommon thing at autumn time for trav.
elling tailors, tailoresses, and shoe-makers to come
into the homes of those who could afford to employ
them and remain weeks at a time helping to make up
the outfit of garments and boots for winter use.

LAW AND MEDICINE.

Professional mf n were then but few, and largely a
superfluity. As might be expected, those who located
in such new and sparsely settled communities were
generally of the most ordinary attainments and quali-
fications.

For the most part litigants stated their own case
and pleaded the cause before the local magistrates in
the most informal manner. Dignity and decorum were
then not in evidence, and not infrequently the most
ludicrous scenes were enacted. These magistrates
often received their appointments for effective politi-
cal work in behalf of some budding son, or ambitious
individual with plenty of money, who usually came
from Montreal, and who desired to add the prefix
Hon. or the suffix M. P. P. to his family name by cap-
turing a rural constituency of much praised "loyal
yeomanry" whom perhaps he had never previously
seen or heard of, to represent in the provincial parlia-
ment, and not because of any knowledge of the law or
fitness for the office, and so results were what might
be expected under such circumstances.

Domestic medicine was then much more practiced
than it is now. During the summer season nearly

152

Gathered Waifletb.

every family gathered a supply of roots, barks and
herbs for use throughout the year — gold thread, Can-
ada snake rort, slippery elm bark, prickly ash bark,
chamomile, sage, thoroughwort, wormwood, catnip,
tansy, and the like.

' n parturient eases there was in nearly every neigh-
borhood a mid-wife, who officiated very successfully and
very often gratuitously. Should she be given a doUar
for her services she would think herself very gener-
ously rewarded and even handsomely compensated.

Here and there, scattered many miles apart, were to
be found pretentious disciples of P^sculapius whose
superficial knowledge of surgery and the healing art
was wrapped up in an ample covering of lofty pretence
and an assumed life-and-death air of wisdom. With
these unenviable qualities there not infre(iuently co-
existed a very rough and ungentlemanly exterior, and
sometimes habits of intemperance, profanity, indif-
ference and other lowering and unbecoming qualities.

This may be the more readily impressed upon the
reader and appreciated by a recital of a couple among
many cases well remembered of a physician not long
since deceased, who practiced medicine more than fifty
years over an extent of country approximating four
hundred square miles, and for many, very many years
without a coadjutor or rival

VE OLD TIME DOCTORS.

Being sent for on a time to reduce a fracture of the
femur in a man beyond mid-life, who resided some six
or eight miles away, and who fell upon the ice while
fishing for pickerel, it was found that the doctor had
gone a dozen miles away in an opposite direction and
that he would not return until the next day. Some

REMlmgOEMT AND OtHIRWISR. 188

twenty.fonr or more honn after the accident occurred
and tumefaction had set in, cauiing the man to groan in
agony with pain, the doctor arrived upon the scene.
His first inquiry was for some brandy. Being told
that there was none in the house he ordered a messen.
ger dispatched to the tavern in the villcge for a supply
When this was procured he called for some morning's
milk, from which the cream was not to be removed,
and half filling a tumbler with this he filled the re-
mainder with brandy and drank aU with evident gusto.

He then went to the bedside and stripped off the
covering so roughly as to cause the patient to howl
with pain, and cry out for mercy—

I' Oh! doctor, doctor! for God's sake be easy!"

Shut up your mouth you d d old fool! It will

learn you to stand up next time," came the brutal
rejoinder.

He was called to another house where the fair sex
predominated, and among whom were some practical
jokers. His patient was a spinster of doubtful age
whom dame rumor said had at an earlier time been
wounded by an arrow from Cupid's quiver. Be this
as it may she was nervous, whimsical, hypochondria-
cal, and the butt and jest of her more youthful sisters
who probably knew or at least suspected the cause of
ner indisposition.

The doctor being an old bachelor, put on great dig-
nity and assumed the role of a cavalier.

" Ah, yes, you are a very sick girl. It is very for-
tunate that you called me in so soon. Disease has
already maae a serious inroad upon your system,
which would soon terminate in a decline and a gene-
ral breaking down, but I shall leave you some powe^

'•f.

154

GaTHIBED WAirLBTS.

fnl medicine which your sisters will give yon, and
which with good care and careful nursing will bring
you back to goo<l health," etc., eta, and with an asBU^
ance that he would call again in a week or ten day* he
took his departure.

The medicine left was in the form of pills and they
so nearly resembled the seeds growing upon a bass-
wood tree beside the road that the joUy sisters decided
it would be a good joke on physician and patient to
substitute them for the doctor's medicine, which they
accordingly did, and which they administered regu-
larly at the prescribed times.

In due season the doctor called again and was so
surprised and delighted with his patient's great im-
provement that he threw bouquets at himself without
stint or limit and boastingly told of his great medical
attainments and wonderful skill in the treatment of
disease!

FROM LABOR TO REFRESHMENT.

Nor was it all toil and gloom with the early settlers.
Amidst the cares and burdens of their daily life aspira-
tions for the higher and more refined were not wholly
wanting. In addition to the dahlias and rose-bushes
seen in nearly every restricted front yard and garden,
hollyhocks and morning glories that covered the win-
dows and sometimes whole sides and roofs of cabins,
vr»re assiduously cultivated and highly appreciated.

They had their leisure hours and they made the
most of them. The older people of today can well
recall the jolly husking bees of autumn time and the
reward bestowed upon the lucky ones who found the
red ears of com. Apple paring bees extended through-
out the different neighborhoods and frequently termi-

RxXinigOENT A!»D OTHKRWIgR. 186

nated with "aU talnte yonr partners," "first two forward
and back," "balance four," and other limilar move-
ments of Terpsichore to the strains of Money Mnsk,
Fisher's Hornpipe, Virginia Reel, and other well
known tones extorted from a violin not made by a
Stradivarius nor fingered by a Paganinni, bnt which
answered every purpose.

The older people whiled sway many a pleasant even-
ing when they called upon each other by telling the
tales of other days, thoir own adventures, the folklore
of the country from whence they came, in "old sledge,"
"forty five," and other games of cards. Those within
the years of childhood and early youth were interested
listeners and maintained a respectful silence, longing
for the day to come when they would be grown up and
able to take part in and share the evening's pleasures.

FUNERAL CUSTOMS.

When the Death angel made his visit and bore
hence some loved one, the entire neighborhood was
wrapped in gloom. Relatives, friends and neighbors
for miles around came with words of sympathy as sin-
cere as touching, and they were ever ready to render
every aid within their power to the afllicted ones.

There weru then no professional paid undertakers
to mechanicaUy and perfunctorily perform the last sad
act of burial

When a death occurred the village carpenter came
and measured the remains and made a coffin of pine
-oards, wide at the shoulders and tapering to the ends.
This was painted black and lined with white cloth.
There were no silver plated, oxidized, or other showy
handles or tinsel adornments.

The remains were escorted to the place of sepulture

186

OikTunBD WAirLira.

hj • Urge eonooane of people who teemed tonobed
by the bereavement and ladneM of the occasioD. The
fnneral of many a diitinipiiihed person has taken place
with less sincere sorrow and appropriate ceremony.
Roman Catholics were always buried in the grave-yard
attached to the parish chnrcb, with chnrch services,
and others in a less ceremonious manner, in the many
little burial places in the different neighborhoods
throughout the country.

The grave is closed, the last sad act performed, and
all return to their homes ; — night comes, the dew falls,
and the moon shines out resplendent over the quiet
earth. The sun rises on the morrow and the wonted
duties begin over again as if nothing outside the daily
routine had happened.

l'envoie.

Changes have come, the old has passed away. The
new has been ushered in. Nevertheless it is a discon-
solate thing to forever part company with the old set-
tlers — men and women of honorable lives and sterling
worth — with old conditions and old customs which
were the every-day life of the people of a few genera-
tions ago. Green be their memory and peace to their
ashes.

" 111 fares the land, to hastening ills a prey.
Where wealth accumulates and men decay:
Princes and lonls may flourish or may fade,
A breath can make them as a breath has made.
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride.
When once destroyed can never be supplied."
—The Newi, St. John's, P. Q., Nov. 9, 1900.

1 I

i i'

VERY REV. JOHN J. POWER, D. D, V. G.

WuiTiii OH Riqum or thi Boaio of T»abi. Wonoimi

"AM., roK In OrriciAi. Phiiiioatioh, thi Wo»ch.

iM Maoauiii, Arm, Itm.

Bunder therefore to all their due.; tribute, to whom tribute
i» due; custom, to whom cu.tom; tear, to whom (ear;
honor, to whom honor.— Romant, iiii:7.

The juit ihall be in everlasting remembrance.— Pealms, cxi:7.

THERE was little that was optimigtic or reasgnp.
ing in the report of the Committee of the Gen-
eral Court which was sent out in 1667 "to take
an exact view, as soon as they conveniently can, to
make a true report whether the place be capable to
make a viUage, and what number of families they con-
ceive may be there accommodated."

This committee performed the duty for which it was
appointed, and ascertained that a very considerable
portion of the land within the limits of the proposed
new town had already been granted to individuals, and

"unto the church of Maiden one thousand acres;

but all this notwithstanding, we conceive there may be
enough meadow for a small plantation, or town, of
about thirty families; and if these farms be annexed
to it, it may supply about sixty families."

Taking a retrospective glance from the threshold of
the twentieth century, it is hard to realize the trans-

-PI

158

Gathebed Waiflbts.

formation wronght in the brief space of « little more
than two hundred years. Its recital wonld seem more
like a fairy tale than reality. Here the wily Indian
then pursued the timid deer ; here his paddle mffled
the waters of the placid lake ; here the beaver bnilt
his dam unmolested ; here the white man was a stran-
ger; here the woods had never echoed the settler's
axe; here nature had never received the impress of
civilization.

And yet in the brief space of years that might be
measured by the lives of three individuals, behold the
change !

Forbidding forests have given place to homes of
comfort ; streams once the home of beaver and otter,
now turn the wheels of industry and furnish employ-
ment to multitudes of people; hill-tops where once
burned the signal fires of the savage, now are crowned
with churches, schools, and eleemosynary institutions,
— and the old is blotted out forever.

The territory which it was thought "may supply
about sixty families" is the beautiful city of Worces-
ter of to-day which now sustains a population of one
hundred and twenty thousand people, and which ii-
rapidly growing.

In a great nation of great cities Worcester takes
prominent place and ranks twenty-ninth in population.
Our city is well known throughout the United States
and far beyond for its educational institutions, diversi-
fied industries, the skill and enterprise of its mechan-
ics, and its rapid growth. But in this grasping,
utilitarian age, when so many enter the race for wealth
and think that money is king, it is not wise to forget,
overlook, or obscure the fact that material success

Very Rev. John J. Power, D.D., V.G. 159

alone is not a measure of civilization or of a nation's
trae greatness.

Wood and stnbble, bricks and mortar, rifled cannon
and men-of-war, huge industrial combinations and
enterprises, and vast clearing-house balances of them-
selves never made a contented people nor a nation
great. The civilization, stability, and progress of a
country rest upon the moral fibre of the people.
Honor and praise alike belong to all who have aided
in the building and maintenance of the substructure of
equal and exact justice which is embodied in our
national constitution, and which is highest civilization
and the foundation which buttresses and supports ma-
terial greatness.

Worcester is great because her people have been
and are great. She has contributed, with honor to
herself and credit to our country, her full quota of dis-
tinguished men to every walk of life.

Taking high rank with the greatest and best of her
citizens is the subject of this sketch, Very Rev. John
J. Power, D. D., vicar-general of the Diocese of Spring-
field, who died January 27, 1902. For nearly fifty
years he was intensely interested in everything per-
taining to the welfare and advancement of the city to
which he was an important contributing factor, and
few men who have ever lived within its limits were
better known or loved, or whose death comes home to
so many with all the force of personal bereavement
and loss. He was born of highly respectable and hon-
orable parents in the shadow of Bunker Hill in the city
of Charlestown, August 23, 1828, where his early boy-
hood was passed. He attended the public schools and
had as school-mates boys who later, like himself, at-

160

GaTHBBKD WAIFLETa

tained to marked distinction — among their number
being Starr King, the eloquent preacher and lecturer,
and for whom two mountain peaks have been named ;
Professor Lewis B. Monroe, the famed elocutionist, and
author of Monroe's series of readers ; and others.

Being bright and studious, he was not only able to
take foremost rank in his class, but he also found time
to begin the private study of the classics, when fifteen
years old, with his pastor, Rev. George Goodwin. He
was admitted to Holy Cross College, July 7, 1847,
where he iras graduated July 24, 1851.

Believing himself called to the priesthood, he made
the first year of his course in theology in the Grand
Seminary in Montreal. Never enjoying robust health,
his frail constitution was too severely taxed by the rig-
ors of a Canadian winter to justify his return. He was
then sent to the seminary at Aix, in the south of
France, on the shore of the Mediterranean, where he
completed his course and where he was ordained
priest May 17, 1856.

When he returned to his home he was so frail that
it was thought he could not long survive, and to
spare him from the trying east winds of his native city,
he was sent to Worcester.

The note sent with him by the Bishop to Father
Boyce reflected the general belief, "Take good care of
this young man ; he will not trouble you more than a
few months." Being of a highly nervo-vital tempera-
ment, his system responded to the balmy weather of
early summer in the interior of the state, and he
quickly manifested that singular recuperative energy
for which he ever after was so noted.

There was then but one Catholic church in the city —

Vkry Rbv. John J. Powbh, D.D., V.G. 161

St JohD's, on Temple street In 1852 a plot of land
was bought on Shrewsbury street as a site for a new
churoh. Work was begun upon the building in 1854,
which was placed under the patronage of Saint Anne;
but owing to the small number of Catholics, their pov.
erty, dull times, bad management, or aU these, it had
passed into the hands of the mortgagee before comple-
tion.

Three months after the coming of the young priest,
August 6, 1866, he was appointed pastor of the new
parish, and then and there he began, amid the most
humble and unpromising surroundings, his pastoral
labors in which he was so pre-eminently successful and
which gave him commanding eminence.

As the Catholic church is managed in this country,
the burden of building churches, convents, schools, and
the like, is added to the pastoral duties of the priest,
and thus it is that Father Power has performed the
double duty of adding much to the material growth
and beauty of the city while zealously safeguarding
the spiritual interests and upbuilding the morals of
the people over whom he was placed. Without a dol-
lar in the treasury, he re-purchased the church prop-
erty. Bishop Fitzpatrick of Boston having advanced
the necessary money to meet the first payment Ever
optimistic, te had an abiding faith in the growth and
development oi the city and in his ultimate success.
He gathered his flock about him, and soon his winning
personality, ascetic life, earnestness, self-denial, lucid
instructions, fatherly exhortations, and devoted minis-
trations, added to its numbers, and extended his rap-
idly growing fame and influence for good throughout
the city and surrounding country.

162

GaTHKBEO WAnXBTS.

This made him and his work a shining mark for
that periodical ebullition of ignorance, bigotry and
malice which has always been in such painful evidence
in this country from its earliest settlement, and which
stands out au a foul blot thereon, and which at that
time was organized under the name of the American
party, popularly called "Know Nothings." He was un-
moved by their insults and threats of personal vio-
lence, but, being credibly informed that they intended
to bum the church, as they had burned Catholic
churches and other buildings devoted to religious
uses elsew here, and that his parishioners were plan-
ning to defend it, he feared bloodshed and conse-
quent dishonor to the city. With his accustomed
coolness and foresight, he forbade his people to assem-
ble for this purpose, and locking the doors of the
church he placed the keys in the hands of the mayor
of the city, and told him that he must protect it, and
that if it should be burned he would hold the city re-
sponsible therefor. This had the desired effect, St
Anne's escaped the ruffian's torch, probable bloodshed
was averted, and the good name and honor of the city
were maintained.

The financial crash and panic of 18.57 added another
obstacle of huge proportions to surmount and over-
come. Nothing daunted, he re-doubled his efforts,
never resting, never hasting, overcoming difficulty
after difficulty by his ability, tact, undaunted zeal, and
tireless energy ; while his self-abnegation, devotion to
duty, and edifying life made the community better
and filled his church to overflowing — many non-Catho-
lics in the higher walks of life being of the number.

Untoward sights, sounds and actions could not ex-

Vehy Rev. John J. Powkb, D. D., V. G. 163

ist in a place blessed by his presence and ministra-
tions, and a more healthy and elevated tone was soon
apparent in that portion of the city wherein he re-
sided.

Frail as he was and burdened with the work of
organizing his parish, attending to the spiritual
wants of his parishioners, and paying off the church
debt, he found time to devote to missions in the
towns of Grafton and Millbury, where his memory ig
held in loving and grateful remembrance. His rapidly
growing congregation soon taxed the church beyond
its limits and made it necessary to provide more room.
He then had the church raised and a commodious
basement built thereunder, extending the seating
capacity of the church to the full size of the build-
ing; built a vestibule and entrance in front, replaced
the windows with stained glass, purchased a pipe
organ, cushioned the pews, renovated and frescoed the
interior— virtually making a new church out of the
old and doubling its capacity.

Soon after he purchased land adjoining the church
on the easterly side and erected a convent thereon.
He secured a band of Sisters of Mercy, who t. k up
their residence in the convent October 24, 186^, this
being the first establishment of the religious orders of
women in this city.

There was then no hospital in the city, and its
necessity was painfnUy brought to his attention when
servant girls who had no homes or relatives in the
city were overtaken by sickness. He supplied the
need by establishing a small hospital in connection
with the convent, which he placed in charge of the
sisters. This, as in other things throughout his life,

164

OaTRERED WAirLBTS.

he undertook only after csrefnl conBidention and
thoroughly maturing plans for its maintenance. As
he was always a firm believer in what was worth hav-
ing was worth paying for, he adopted the co-operative
plan — each one wishing to avail herself of its advan-
tages during sickness secured the same by the pay-
ment of a nominal sum annually. For several years
the work was carried on successfully, but a public
hospital being afterward established rendered its
existence no longer necessary, and it was aban-
doned.

As the years of his pastoral life lengthened, he saw
some of the fruits of his labors in the increased and
increasing number of parishioners, which overtaxed
existing church accommodations and made imperative
the work of providing more room.

Ever striving to extend the kingdom of the Master,
and to give the people over whom he was placed every
reasonable convenience for their devotion and worship,
he undertook the laborious task of building a new
church. He called a public meeting in Washburn
Hall in the month of January, 1867, to consider the
feasibility and propriety of undertaking the work.
His audience made answer by subscribing $7,100 on
the spot for this purpose.

He was never content with mediocrity, and, deter-
mined in this as in other things to have the best, he
selected as a site for the new church a location on
"Nobility Hill," so called, the then most prominent
and popular residential portion of the city. This
aroused a whirlwind of opposition and protest on the
part of the residents of the neighborhood, and it was
even against the combined wisdom of many of his

Vkry Bev. John J. Powub, D. D., V.G. 165

friends, whose judgment was adverse, but which time
has proved to have been wisely chosen.

Without a dollar in hand, when the work was pro-
jected he undertook the task of building the most ex-
tensive and expensive church edifice then in the city.

On a day appointed in the spring of 1868 a large
number of Catholics assembled upon the sit* selected
and joyfully participated in the first day's work of ex-
cavating for the foundation.

The comer-stone was 'aid with fitting ceremony, in
the presence of a vast concourse of clergy and laity,
July 4, 1869, and St. Paul's will long remain a fitting
monument to his foresight, energy and executive abil-
ity, and which by a plan and system of his own form-
ulating, he lived to see free from debt and a handsome
surplus in the treasury.

In addition to large sums of money paid while the
edifice was in process of construction, there remained
a debt of one hundred and thirty-two thousand dollars
thereon when it was completed. Without any endow-
ment, without any benefactions, and but little wealth
among his parishioners, he addressed himself to the
task of not only carrying on the spiritual work of the
church successfully, paying the heavy interest charges
and other expenses, but also to paying oflF the entire
debt.

This plan and system, which have accomplished so
much in a sliort space of time without working
hardship to anyone, and for which only failure was
predicted by many, deserve to be recorded here to his
credit

Every member of his parish eighteen years old and
upwards, earning wages or in the receipt of an income.

166

Oathskco Waiflbts.

was taxed one hnndred dollars a§ his or her minimnm
share of the chnrch debt or contribution to the build-
ing fnnd. This amonnt conld be paid as a single pay-
ment, or by installments when so desired, as small as
one dollar each month — the "three cents a day" of
which he often spoke that accomplished so mach. He
divided his parish into districts, and volunteer collec-
tors canvassed each district and handed in the amonnt
collected at vespers the first Sunday of every month.
The names of all who completed the payment of the
assessment were enrolled as Chnrch Builders or Ben-
efactors, and this, among other things, stimulated a
healthy spirit of interest and earnestness in church
work and produced a reliable income which rapidly
diminished the debt upon the church.

Hither he also brought the Sisters of Mercy, and in
addition to the duties of their order of self-abnegation
and kindly ministrations to the afflicted and unfortu-
nate throughout the city, he placed them in charge of an
orphanage which he established in a commodious
brick building, which he built with his own money
for this purpose, adjoining the convent and contiguous
to the parochial residence.

Since its doors were jpened more than one thousand
children have been cared for within its walls, every one
of whom was an object of his kindly interest, and
many of whom were largely dependent upon his pater-
nal bounty.

Such in general terms are some of the outward and
more apparent works planned and brought to happy
realization by him for whom the city mourns.

But a more valuable and enduring monument to his
pre-eminent goodness and greatness is the many lives

Very Ubv. Johw J. Powbk, D.D., V.G. 167

made better and brighter by big presence and minis-
trations, the prejudices and misconceptions that be
overturned and explained away, and the lofty ideals
that he inculcated and so happily exemplified by ex-
ample throughout all the years of his active and use-
ful life.

He was blessed with brilliant talents, which he ren-
dered more brilliant by constant study, meditation,
and use — and to these he united a keen and practical
judgment These, conjoined with light and strength
from on high, he brought to bear upon his every-day
life, and to what they led he was ever devotedly loyaL

The one transcendant quality for which he was
noted, and which was peculiarly fitting and appropri-
ate, was the measure in which he fulfilled the com-
mand of the Master, "Go teach."

His ascetic, self-denying, holy life during all of the
pain-beset years of his long pastorate was a profoundly
eloquent sermon, rich in the upbuilding of character,
strengthening the weak, and making the good bet-
ter — the after-glow of which will be an abiding inspi-
ration, strength and comfort to all who knew him and
came within his saintly influence.

Intolerant ever of avoidable ignorance and ever
striving to stimulate intellectual activity — to act only
after enlightened reason had been appealed to and ap-
proved — his greatest efforts were made to build char-
acter upon foundations acceptable to God rather than
for the purpose of winning the plaudits and admira-
tion of men.

He lived in an atmosphere above and beyond the
humdrum of every-day life, and he continually strove
for something higher — he had but scant courtesy for

■m

ill

168

OxTHCBao 'WAiri.lTS.

those content to remain at low levels. While child-
like in his simplicity, a characteristic of the tmly
great, he gave added honor and dignity to the priest
and citizen. He was too great to lower himself to the
ways of the politician, the tricks of the stage, or to
bnm red Are to captnre the applause of the unthinking
multitude.

He read not, he studied not, he appealed not for
mere intellection — but that it might give color and
form and life and inspiration that would stimulate to
greater endeavors and lead up even to heroic achieve-
ment all who were given in charge to him — so that the
service of the creature might be more worthy the Cre-
ator.

"God gave the intellect, and it is man's duty to cul-
tivate it," "Majorities have not the prerogative of
infallibility," and, "If in the right stand alone, though
all the world oppose," were not infrequently uttered
by him, and those who knew him know how well they
typified the man and how well he exemplified them in
his every-day life.

Justice, stem, rigid and exacting, was a very promi-
nent trait in his character, and no bandage was neces-
sary upon his eyes to proclaim that he held the scales
true and impartial

His clear and positive convictions and sterling man-
hood could not tolerate temporizing, vacillation, time
serving, insincerity — yet with such thoughtful consid-
eration, gentleness and kindness of heart which he had
in over-abundance for all, he never transgressed the
bounds of charity, nor found bitterness in his heart for
those who opposed, offended, or were not of his faith.

He ever waged ceaseless warfare against intemper-

Vebv Rkv. Johs J. PowiR, D. D., V. O. 189

ance, and especiaUy the cnrse of dnmkennei*. For
the tempter he had less charity than for the tempted,
and his scathing dennnciationa of the saloon bore
wholesome fruit, and will long be remembered. He
had an eye to see the misery and ruin wrought by the
liquor traffic and abuse of alcoholic stimulants, and a
heart to sympathize with and pity the victims. He
wt - not slow to bare his arm and raise his voice to
denounce the one and to reclaim and save the other.
While not proclaiming his work from the housetops
nor amid the din and noise of public gatherings, his
work was none the less telling and effective.

He was a master in the forum of controversial dis-
cussion. In a moment he would analyze the argument
of an opponent and resolve it into its elements, and in-
stantly synthesize all that was cogent therein, only to
administer a stunning blow from his well-stored arse-
nal. While never believing in controversy or con-
tention, he ever Lad a logical rejoinder or e.xplanation
ready for the shafts of an opponent ; but he preferred
and so inculcated the seeking after truth and light by
investigation and prayer to Him who has promised an
attentive ear to all who seek after truth with a meek
and humble heart.

He was punctual, precise and exactini; in all things,
even in what others would consider , ifles, often say-
ing that the greatest thing in the world, and even the
world itself, was made up of small things, and that the
most powerful mind and the most sterling; character
are but the aggregation of small things. He loved
to dwell upon and accentuate the importance of doing
well the so-called small things of life, which he often
said were the only stepping-stones to the greater and

4 tSj-

' '1

?[.' '

if;

u^ i

170

GaTHMO WAirUTTfl.

higher, and that when he waa gone, if he waa remem-
bered for nothing elae, he desired to be remembered
for this trait in his character.

Cold, reeerved and aaatere as he seemed to some,
those who knew him as he was knew that these were
but the outward covering of a kind and loving heart ;
and while flatly refusing to be imposed upon by the
designing and unworthy, he always had an open hand
and generous sympathy for the unfortunate and de-
serving — God's poor, as he called them.

In his sermons he never followed a beaten path nor
the stereotyped method of introduction, development,
climax and conclusion ; but no man could choose more
fitting words to express his thoughts nor lodge them
with more directness and force into the minds and
hearts of his hearers — going direct to the end aimed
at without formality or verbiage — and making last-
ing impressions alike upon old and young, cultivated
and unlettered.

He was appointed vica^general January 29, 1874,
and on June 2.5, 1874, his alma mater made him doc-
tor of divinity.

He yielded to no man in pride of birth or love of
country, and in the dark days of the War of the Re-
beUion his rousing words of patriotism gave new
courage and sent many a stalwart soldier to the front
to recruit the depleted ranks of the army. He gave
the city valuable service for many years as a member
of the School Board, and he was one of the committee
which visited other cities to examine high schools be-
fore deciding upon the plan of our present Classical
High School

It is not doing injustice to say that no one ever

Very Bev. John J. Power, D.D., V.Q. 171

took a more kindly intcrent in the bcIiooIh of the city,
or labored more zcalouHly or with greater uucceBs to
remove objectionable features and to promote their
efficiency. IIi' (fuve great attention to viHiting the
BobooU, and kept In close touch with methods pur-
iued and pro^jr. s iiiude, and he was always warmly
welcomed by t ■••iciic. s ium ; iii,iis alike, with whom he
was alwayc :i r.i..i,]t.

He al >- 'i-i <"l ij tiMM i' vc ri as a director of the
Public Lilinn, v.h"ii' hi. Ii i th of scholarship and
knowled,:,". nf littu'ure ti.»d hovks gave great value to
his service^.

He was madr a m lor of the Saint Wulstan

Society when it ■ •<■■ (iiganizcd, and so remained until
his death. This society is composed of some of the
leading educated men of the city, and it was organized
to take charge of and administer the Knowles legacy,
which was left to establish an art museum, and mem-
bership therein is considered a great honor, and it is
highly prized. He was always proud of the city, and
highly interested in everything that enhanced its fame
and prosperity. He left the impress of his personality
upon his day and generation; and he will long be
remembered as the beloved pastor, the sympathetic
friend, and the ideal citizen.

( i

1 3

A CHRISTMAS REVERIE.

,1[,1

NATURE sleeps. The blazing yule log upon the
hearth makes cheering contrast with the wind
of winter as it drives the frozen sleet against
the casement. Oazing upon the embers, it dawns upon
us that man lives but little in the present. The wealth
of by-gone memories, strung as jewels along life's
pathway, and the hope of future achievement, con-
stitute a fascinating environment compared with which
the present is but a barren plain.

A gentle reverie steals over us, and half -dreaming,
half- waking, we see man'u <'..reer painted in the fitful
embers before us. Tongues of flame burst forth and
vanish, ami anon burst forth aneAv, shoot higher and
higher — and then a darkening shadow ! Here, in
miniature, clouds of sunshine as if happiness never
could end; there, wielding a sword of flame as if to
overcome the world — and then all is ashes I

Winter's piercing blast now chants a dirge as befits
the dying year, and says : tlie seasons, too, typify thy
days, man. Thy day of youth is but in retrospec-
tion. No longer with thee tarries the smiles, tears
and blushes of gentle Spring. No more is the balmy
air laden with the perfume of Mora's breath. No
longer can'st thou, with the husbandman, cast fertile
seed into the womb of the future. Thy seed-time is
past. The heat of summer's solstice is upon thee, and
nature's verdure is responsive. The lowing kine seek

A Christmas Bevebie.

173

leafy sliade and pools of cooling water. Tasseling
com and fields of grain bow gently in the breeze, the
lark sings his love-note in the meadow, and the fledg-
ling swallow tries his wing. Restless nature hurries
on, and forth goes the reaper. The blooming field of
yesterday is shorn of its beauty, and the fragrant
fom yields tribute to the biting frost. The feathered
songsters seek a home in the "Sunny South." Type
of vigorous manhood, robust, rugged Autumn, with
his wealth of color, mellow sunshine and crisp frost,
is no longer his. The rainbow-tinted hillside is now
wrapped in Winter's mantle, the melody of the rip-
pling brook is locked in icy fastness, and Nature sleeps.
Bams groan under their burden, and the clanking of
their chains makes music, as the kine contentedly chew
their cuds in the lintels. Tongues of fire in the north-
em sky shoot upward to the zenith, and the skater's
steel resounds upon the frozen lake.

Wafted hence on the wings of Morpheus, the Good
Genius speaks: "Man, man! be thy day of spring
a memory of a wise seed-time, thy summer's hour the
remembrance of fruitful maturity, thy golden autumn
the attainment of man's best estate; then, as the snows
of old age descend upon thy head, wilt thou enjoy the
winter of rest, preparatory to thy entrance upon per-
petual spring."

The embers have burned low upon the hearth, and
a sudden gust of wind partly recalls the wandering
mind from the land of dreams only to have it soon
again float out upon and wander down another of
Nature's attractive vistas upon the balmy zephyrs of
•pring as they breathe over the land, and bud and
blossom are responsive. He sees the humming bird

'Mi

174

QaTHBBED WAlPLETa.

and butterfly disturb the trellis and dislodge the dewey
gem from tlie petal of the Morning Glory, its mirrored
rainbows dashed to earth and lost to human ken.
Destroyed it is not, and to him in the land of dreams
is it given to see it joined to its fellows, where it leaves
its birth-place on the summit, in laughing ripples and
winding rivulet, as it glistens and sings ever onward,
onward, until lost in the great ocean beyond. He sees
obstacles and rebuffs encountered only to be over-
come, and growing broader, deeper and more sparkling
as it journeys on, it hashes back the rays of the
morning sun and attracts the school-boy, who tarries
by its side to gather glistening pebbles. Bobolink and
daffodil taste its sweets, and fragrant fern and pungent
mint give it welcome embrace. The timid hare in the
copse shrinks from its mirrored form, and modest
violets are hidden by mossy stones, where the silver
thread of his idyllic brook meanders through fertile
field and luxuriant meadow.

The freshness and loveliness of life abounds, and
kindly nature brings tribute of foliage, bud and blos-
som, as if fully in touch with the enchantment of the
scene. The miniature cascades grow in volume, pools
deepen, and the current cuts away the bank at the
bend. Here he sees Piscator come and drop his tempt-
ing lure, and the voracious trout, impaled upon the
cruel steel, no longer tarries in his crystal home.

Without mental effort he sees in the stream an
epitome of life itself — beginnings the most hiunble
and helpless, children multiplying and adding strength
to the family name and household, even as the rivulets
add to the brook; obstacles and hindrances in the way
to be overcome and surmounted; life's pathway now

A Christjjah Reverie. 175

turbulent and precipitous, and anon without agitation
or ripple; now with bud and blossom to cheer and
please, and again encountering the boulders and thorns
of opposition and difficulty ; now in sunshine and calm,
and again with darkening cloud and forked lightning
as if to cast down and annihilate ; now moving along
in quietness and alone, as the dreamer himself, now
prolific and useful, and now seeming barren and use-
less ; now turning the wheels of industry amid noise,
grime and turmoil in centers of population; and anon
bearing the burdens of commerce out to and losing
itself in the boundless ocean, even as does restless and
resistless time transport the human family out upon
the measureless ocean of eternity.

Filled with this unconscious, yet conscious cerebra-
tion, so involved and intricate is the weft and woof
entering into the fabric of dreams, he returns without
effort through space with the rapidity of thought, and
finds himself upon a hiUside near a solitary spreading
tree. It is isolated from its fellows, manfuUy breast-
ing the storms that break over it, its roots striking
more deeply and holding more firmly with each en-
counter, fulfilling its allotted destiny. He sees therein
a type of the hermit of other days— a man of fixed
principles to which he was ever devoted and loyal,
who lived apart from his fellows, who courted not
the worids praise nor feared its censure— and on he
passes to a grove of conifers.

Here he sees a brotherhood of trees in close commun-
ion— the antithesis of the one on the hillside, each in
closest relation,but noteucroacliing upon the othe:--the
soughing of the wind in their branches typifying the
orisons of their human companions, their balsamic

176

Gathered Waifiets.

fragrance penneating all, and wafted heavenward like
the incense of good deeds ascending from the human
brotherhood to the great white throne on high.

Again, he sees great giant trees towering above all
surroundings like the noted ones of the world, and
others obscure and unpretentious, but fruited with
abundance, like the most valued and useful members
of society — the unobtrusive men of good deeds. There,
to be shunned, are noxious trees whose pestilential ex-
halations have no redeeming quality— and they remind
him only of the vagabond contingent and enemies of
their kind ; others stately and fair to look upon that
are rotten within ; trees of great height and vast pro-
portions that challenge his attention and command the
tribute of his admiration, that are snapped asunder by
the whirlwind and thrown to earth, pulling down and
crushing everything in their course like many a proud
man who started out upon the journey of life in con-
scious strength and buoyant with the hope of great
achievement — who attained to high and envied sta-
tion, but who, in a moment of weakness, encountered
the gale of temptation, and fell with an appalling crash
that shook the pillars of society and brought disgrace
and ruin in his path.

Again, he is surrounded by others that seem fitting
companions to the dilettanti whose every thought is of
the present, and who always promise themselves a
golden to-morrow, but who lire swept into oblivion by
the winds of adversity, leaving behind not even charred
embers as a remembrance, as does the consuming forest
fire.

The towering oak and clinging vine, type of conju-
gal love and highest earthly affection, escape not his

I '

A Chbistmas Revebie.

177

attention; nor the lesson they teach of bearing one
another's burdens.

Some he seeH are like other members of the hnman
family who have a grand destiny, while others of
greater intrinsic value live and die unknown ; some
are great, in a worldly sense, by the noise made by
the wind, or rattle of hail in their branches; some,
while living, by their association with others of impor-
tance; and others, aks! like the good ones of the
world, are best known and appreciated when removed
from the ranks of the living and beyond its praise.

Putting forth bud and blossom, our dreamer sees
that they well typify youth, giving promise of a great
future ; clothed with densest foliage in mid-summer,
the days of manhood and strength ; in the sere and
yellow leaf the autumn-time of life, when is garnered
the harvest of years ; and when their naked branches
are assailed by the merciless winds of winter, and give
back but sad, pensive strains in remonstrance, he sees
a vivid picture of cheerless and defenseless old age,
desolate and forlorn, when the charms of life are but
a memory — the friends of other days cast down from
the tree of life and gathered into tlie silent church-
yard, even as are the leaves by the \\ inds of winter.

It dawns upon him as never before that tlie world is
but a vast school-house, and all are pupils.

He sees some who are born witli the grin of Momus,
who can see only the ludicrous ; some with a bent for
the serious, who never smile ; some who, surmounting
every obstacle, ascend to the summit at a single bound ;
some who never weary proclaiming their own great-
ness ; and others who never become more than drudges
or drones by the wayside.

178

Gathkbed WAiFLira

He oooBiden how mnch he hag to be thankful for,
to whom it is given to be any of these as occasion de-
mands, and how deserving of commiseration and sym-
pathy is he who can appear but in a single rola

Oar dreamer's head falls suddenly upon his shoul-
der and he returns to consciousness to hear in an
adjoining church, at the midnight Mass, the joyful
stHuc^^, "Gloria in Excelsis Deo."— TA* Catholic Read-
ing OircU Revitw, December, 1894.

THE IIOHSK I.V S("IK\C'K AXU MTERATI'KH.

TlIK lloltsKS (Jl- TASSO.

THE sciciiti-t iiriii'iii> tliiit the Uuist" uuteilates iimii
upon tliis pliinct, uiiil In' truces liiin Ijiick to tlic
distant Pliocene era in the (Vnezoic ajje From
tlie present uniilactyle, the liif?hiy developeil and heau-
til'ul auiiiial of to-day with a sinf,'le toe or hoot', haelt
througli low('r forms of I'lioliyppus of tlie lower Plio-
cene, anil the llesohyppus and the Miohyppus, with
three toes, of the Jliocene era, to the Orohyppus and
Piohyppus, ahout the size of a small clo;?, of a more re-
mote age.

However intere.^tili},' this may he to the hiologist
and student, in this husy and intensely practical a};e
we need not go beyond the pages of Holy Writ where
creation is aftirnied, and where in the early pages we
read sucli glowing accounts of his strength and lieauty,
the high lights toucheil with the pen of poetry and
sentiment.

From the sumiiiit near the dawn of the twentieth
century, if we take a hurried glance at the intervening
period, we shall always find him very closely associated
with man in his needs, triumphs and pleasures, and his
history recorded in the literature and art of every age
anil of every clime.

As a voice from bygone ages the hieroglyphics of
ancient Babylon, traced in plastic clay before being

180

Gatiiirei) Waiki.kts.

Iiurued into l)rickM, tfll the story of his presence iiiiil
usefulness in the distant past.

The papyrus of tlie land of the Pharaohs records
his uppreeiatioii and jjraise, and their monuments show
forth ami give injte testimony to his beauty. Omitted
from the annals of Persian history and romance they
wi)i;li' lose much of their interest and charm; and
no-v ere has he been more highly appreciated and
I.rii-i'd than upon tlie hills anil in the valleys of dis-
ti. i,t Arabia.

The torch of civilization kindled in the east, and
burning witli a fitful and uncertain Hanie, passed on to
the west with e\er increasing volume and brilliancy,
the liorse keeping pace with its onwanl and upward
progiessj Grecian civilization grew upon the ruins of
the past, and the chisel of Phidias aud the pens of
Xenoplion aud Homer immortalized him in its art and
literature; Hannibal was born and the streets of
Cartilage Howed with blood; liis victorious horse was
turned upon Koine and devastation, ruin and death
followed in his path.

When it is remembered that the armor aloue of the
knights in feudal times often weighed three hundred
pounds and over, it is not diflicult to believe, without
the aid of contemporary history, that great knowledge
and discernment nmst have been bestowed upon his
breeding and care to enable him to bear such burden
and maintain a great Hight of speed, and that lie must
have attained to great development in tliose far-off
times.

The student, accustomeil to look below tlie surface
of things, soon discovers that all that is great, noble
and beautiful in the horse did not originate in recent

I»

TiiK HoKSE IN Science and IjIteratihe.

IWl

times, a* too iimny are apt to think, with the importa-
tion into t',nglan(l of the Uoilolphin Aiahiun durinK
tlic roign of Ooorgf 11., the Darley Arabian in the time
of (^uoon Anno, or i'laiu-'s White Turk ilui'ing tlie
Commonwealth.

The birtii of rliivalrj witnivsHed tlie death of me-
(linivalism, and orKaiiized .society and constitutional
government was the hgacy it left to coming genera-
tions. Great were the enterprises undertaken by the
knights, and tlie more daring and dangerous, the niou'
attractive the encounter, the horse being their ever
present companion and servant.

We know of no br('e<l of liorses at tlie present time
able to carry sucli weight, maintain such flights of
speed, nor that are capable of greater endurance tlian
tliose in the days of cliivalry; and we find the pages
<i( history and liteniture tilled witli tlie glowing de-
scriptions of such horses long before the Plantage-
nets wielded the scepter of power in Kngland, or its
people rendered more brutal and degraded in later
times by the accession to tlie throne of the baser
Tudors, or the degradations and bu'clieries during tl'e
Commonwealth.

As a fitting clos»-, ami to tell the story and juality
and standing of the horHe in the far-otT days of chiv-
alry — of his b'-eeding, development, achievements and
high appreciation — I .shall choose oiw who lived and
wrote more than four hundred years ago, one who
carve*! his name high on the topmost cliffs of fame in
tiie simctuary reserved for the world's greatest poets,
Torquato lasso. Tasso lived soon after the last cru-
sade was undertaken to rescue the Holy Land from the
infidel and Saracen, and his inspired pen soars to the

iH-2

Gatiikrkii Waiklkth.

loftiest lii'iKlit.t of i-pic Kniiult-ur wlii-ii ilcpictiii}; tlie
iifliii'Vt'iiicutN of till' knifflits iiiutiiitcd upon tlii'ir flury

t'llurglTN.

Tliu iii-iiiy of till' rtrst cruaudi' miijitjcreil soiiif tl, reo
liilliilrccl tliouMiiiiil iiifii, uiulfi- the leiiilerMliip of tlio
renowned (fodfrey de tiuuillon, who laid sicKc to ail I
eoji(|Heri'd .Jeiusalein, A. U. 109a.

With the le^ioiiM of infantry passiiiK in review be-
fore (iodfrey, some of tli<' inouiiti'd knights which onr
poet tells UM took part in the imposing M|)ectacle, were
IVom one seetion of France:

A thousand these, fompletely feiieed in mail,

I'aeeil the green turf; a choice like troop succeeds,

111 courage, discipline and massive scale
( )f armor like the first, — on generous steeds

Borne to the battle from their northern meads,

, Ten gallant hundreils.

And from another part of France, Baldwin, the brother
of (iodfrey, leads

Four hmidred knights, the bravest of the land;
And thrice that nnmber, armed, on prancing steeds.

Anil of the contingent from Oreice lie savs:

Lean coursers have (liey, in the race renowned,
I'loof to fatigue, of diet s|.ari' and slight;

Moiinted on these they seem to wing the ground :
Nimble in onset and in flight.

F-iir Rinnldo and brave Tancred of the Crusaders
ami (iieir horses be thus mentions:

So sweetly Herce that when his face is shown
You deem him love, but more when helmed and steeled
He n.ounts his fiery Barb and fulmines through the
field.

Tub Hob8B m Sciairoi Airo Litibatubr. 188

Then Tucred followi to the war, than whom,
Save yoDne Rinaldo, there ia no nobler knight
Eight hondred hone have left beneath hie sway
Campania's Paradise, a pomp of scene
The noblest sure that nature in her play
Of power e'er shaped.

And on the morning of their departure for the seat
of conflict the sun reflected from their shields and
armor with such refulgence that it seemed:

The broad air bums with glory, like a bright
And boundless conflagration ; neighing shrill

From fierce steeds romping in their wild delight.
Mix with the sound of smitten steel, and All
The deafening country round, hill answering loud
to hilL

And when the combatants meet in bloody encounter our
poet gives us many realistic pictures of the deadly
contest:

StiU Dndon flushed with coniiuest gave the rein
To his curvetting horse, that with a bound

Bore down the fierce Tizranes ; not in vain
The sharp sword struck ; he headless fell to ground.

And wounded Tancred, hearing that his lady love was
also wounded in an engagement.

Climbs to his steed, the strange event to explore.

And following the footmarks freshly traced.

Glides like a shooting star across the moonbright waste.

In those far-off times personal encounter and prow-
ess frequently settled the conflict of contending armies,
and of these Tasso gives such vivid and realistic de-
scription as no other pen has ever depicted. With
these in this article I have nothing to do, but I tran-
scribe our poet's description of the mount of the Count

MtaOCOPY RESOLUTION TIST CHART

(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2)

1.0 [rl^ i^

'= llllli

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184

Gathered "Waipxets.

Toulouse when going forth to meet in deadly personal
combat the fierce Argantes of the Saracens:

His eyes defiance fiashed,
And ill could he endure the imputed shame :
His courage stigmatized, more fierce became,

Ground on the whetstone of his wrath ; that, freed
* rom all prevention, a delay so tame

He breaks, and leaps to AquiUine, his steed.
Named from the northern wind, and like that wind
in speed.

Upon the banks of Tagus was he bred,
Where oft the mothers of those martial steeds,

W hen with her warmth-inspiring spring has fed
The eager heat which genial instinct breeds.

Mad o'er the mountain, o'er the spacious meads,
Run open-mouthed against the winds of May

And greedily receive their fruitful seeds ;
Whence growing quick they (singukr to say)
Give, when ripe time rolls around, their issue to the
day.

And to see Aquilline you say :

None but the sprightly wind could be his sire,
ho instantly his feet cut short the way;

Swift to run forward, nimble to retire

And wheel to right and left in narrowest gyre,
1 et leaves no print upon the sands he trode,—

Playful, yet proud; though gentle, full of fire;
Such the Count's steed.

Against him in combat we are told that Argantes
"his coal-black steed he urged with all his might,"
and, as if to show the development and education of
the horse in those days, Tasso thus describes the en-
counter between them :
The pagan, weary of such futile play.

To gripe his foe, next tries each strong resource ;

The Horse in Science and Literature. 183

But he, lest the colossal bulk should weigh

To earth both steed and rider, shuns his force ;

Now strikes ; now yields ; and in his circling course.
As though endowed with viewless wings, maintains

The rotary war; his matchless horse
Obeys each mandate of the fluttering reins ;
Nor one false footstep o'er his nimbleness restrains.

Raymond is wounded unlawfully and Godfrey urges
his knights to redress the wrong :
There were seen visors closing, war barbs bounding.

Tight bridles slacked and lances laid in rest.

So instantly both hosts to battle pressed,
Their course was finished as it seemed begun ;

Sands stamped to dust, the vanquished space con-
fessed
Which, whirleil in breezy billows, dense and dun,
Soared to the steep of heaven, and veiled the shining sun.

And where shall we look for a better or more strik-
ing description of the fiery war-horse than in tlie com-
parison that our poet draws between him and the
tierce warrior Argillan :

As when a wild steed in the states of kings

Fed for the battle, from his manger breaks :
O'er vales, o'er mountains, to liis loves lie springs.

Seeks the known meads, or to the river takes ;

Ilis curled mane dances on liis back ; he shakes
His hauglity head aloft ; his broad hoofs sound

Like the black thunder; while the bright fire flakes
Struck forth from his swift trampling, burn the ground.
And with his neighings slirill he fills the world around.

The charger of the page to tlie Soldan he thus de-
scribes :
His steed for wliiteness matclied tlie snows that drift

On the high Appenines ; the lights that glance
In Arctic skies are not more lithe and swift

Than he to run, to twine, to wheel, to prance.

18G

Gathered AVaiflets.

And when Ismeno, in the guise of a stranger, per-
suaJes 8olyman to desist from his contemplated
flight into Egypt for succor, and to accompany him
to a place of safety from the advancing Crusaders, he
gives us this picture :

His magic car stood ready at command.

They mount; the stranger, shunning all delay,
Shook the rich reins, and with a master hand

Lashed the black steeds, that, romping, scoured
away

So swift that not the sands a trace betray
Of hoof or wheel ; they vanish aa they came.

Proudly precipitant, and snort and neigh.
Paw the parched soil, and, ardent for their home.
Champ their resplendent bits all white with fleecy
foam.

And where shall we find a better description of a
sick horse :

Sickens the late fierce steed ; untasted, loathed
Stands his once-relished, once-saluted corn ;

The dancing mane and neck with thunder clothed,
Droops to the ground ; the pride of laurels won

No more dilates his nostrils, swells his veins ;
Glory his hatred ; victory seems his scorn ;

His rich caparisons, embroidered reins.

And sumptuous trophies, all as baubles he disdains.

The contingent of Bedouin Arabs in the army of
the Saracens Tasso describes as mounted

Upon steeds so nimble sweep along

You'd say a whirlwind blew them past, if e'er
The wings of whirlwinds had a speed so strong.

Dull and sodden would he be who would not And
his blood more swiftly coursing through his veins and
his arm taking on renewed energy when reading Tasso's

The Horse in Science and Litekature. 187

inspiring description of a battle and the conuuct of
horses therein:

O ! it was a grand and monstrous sight.

Ere front to front the marshalled hosts combined,
To mark how nobly in the ranks each knight

Burned to move on and for the signal pined !

How the loose flags Hew billowing on the wind;
How on ten thousand hea<ls the featliers danced ;

How .obes, impresses, gems and arms refined,
Of all rich colors, gold and steel advanced
Before the flouted sun, smiled, sparkled, flashed and
glanced.

Like a tall forest of dark pines depressed

Both armies strew, so thick the spears abound ;
Drawn are the bows, the lances laid in rest,

^'ibrate the darts, the glowing slings whirl round ;

Each waiTing horse is on the wing to bound
Through the snuflfed battle; to the greeting gales

Spreads his broad nostrils, paws the echoing ground,
His lord's fury whets and countervails,
Foams, prances, snorts and neighs, and fire and smoke
exhales.

And when the wars are ended and the horse returned
to pastoral life he forgets not war-time excitements
and fascinations :
As the fierce steed from busy war withdrawn,

A while to riot in voluptuous ease
'Midst his loved mares, loose wantons o'er the lawn.

If chance he hears once more upon the breesie

The spirit-stirring trumpet sound, or sees
The flash of armor, thither, ff>» or near.

He bounds, he neighs, he ^ces on the leas.
Burning to hurl to war the lioteer,

Clash with the rattling car and snap the sparkling
spear.
— The American Horse Breeder, March 9, 1897.

lifj

TROTTING RECORDS AN IMPORTANT FAC-
TOR WHEN BREEDING FOR SPEED.

AT no time in the history of the world has the
breeding and development of the horse received
greater attention than now, and, as a necessary
consequence, we have greater success and a higher type
of horse than was hitherto known. Advance in the
future, > wing to the high plain already reached, will
of necessity be slower than it was in the immediate
past, and those engaged in the laudable effort to ele-
vate this noble animal to greater perfection and
achievement will have to unite the highest scientific
attainments and keenest observation and deep study
to succeed than have many of to-day who have achieved
not only success but also worldly distinction and
wealth. Haphazard and chance will have to give way
to demonstrated methods founded in higher science
backed by all the aid that observation, experience,
enterprise and wealth can render. Every factor that
enters into the tout ensemble of the American trotter,
the higliest type of horse development, must be duly
weighed and considered, not only in its proximate
but remote bearings, and assigned Its proper place and
iniiiortunce in the category of scientific breeding;
e\ery nook and cranny must be exploi 1 and investi-
gated, the grain of solid fact sifted from the bushel of
cliaff of empiricism, untenable theory and loose meth-
ods; and, lead whithersoever they will, legitimate de-

Trotting Records an Important Fai.tor. 189

ductions and conclusions must be accepted even thouj;h
they militate against pre-conceived conclusions and
obstinate prejudices.

It is not entering upon the domain of prophecy to
assert that those wlio conform their breeding ventures
to the lines indicated will be the breeders most likely
to breed the horse that will he the first to achieve the
distinction of trotting or pacing a mile in two minutes,
should such feat ever be performed.

These ideas may be called truisms tliat no one dis-
putes, but they are called forth at this time by an arti-
cle on page 888 of The American Trotter (issue of
November 19, 1801), which begins with this statement:
"Probably nothing can be more misleading to the young
and inexperienced breeder than a superficial study of
trotting records."

AVithout arguing this point now, which would take
us entirely beyond the intent and scope of this article,
and which after all might result in no good, the writer
risks nothing by asserting that this very study and
comparison of trotting records is the chief corner-stone
upon which is built one of the wonders of the nine-
teenth century — the American trotting and pacing
horse. lie may be pardoned, and his contention ac-
cepted, if in confirmation of this assertion he may
quote the breeding e.\perience of Mr. C. A\'. AVilliams,
the proprietor of this paper, and ask upon which he
based his reason — wliether upon the breeding or upon
the trotting records — when he bred the celebrated
horses, AUerton and A.\tell l But, it may be urged ,
"One swallow does not make a summer." Be it so ;
then we ask why does Mr. Williams propose to breed
ten fillies, as noted elsewhere in the same paper, to

I'.H)

Gatiierkd Waiflkts.

Senator Stanford's ArionS Certainly he has now ample
means at his disposal and he has had longer time in
which to study the breeding problem. There are
plenty of stallions of the same blood lines (breeding)
more available to him and standing at but a tithe of
Arion's service fee, but without Arion's trotting record.
And, \vt> will ask, has he, too, been misled by a study,
superticiul or otherwise, of Arion's speed record i And
if with Arion's tal)ulated pedigree spread out before
him he wouhl breed a single filly to liim if he had no
track record or reputiition as a sire of speed i It is
too well known to need further elucidation now that
the practice of the most advanced and successful
breeders of speed throughout tlie whole extent of our
country coincides with that of Mr. Williams. This
practice is carried so far that mares will be sent from
the Atlantic to the Pacilic and vice veraa at fabulous
expense to be bred to stallions holding race track rec-
ords. Their pedigree and family genealogy from
earliest times may be published from end to end of
the country, but the "misleading" trotting records fix
their star in the firmament and draw the choicest
matrons not only of "the young and inexperienced
breeders," but also those of the older and more astute
and successful, to their harems and adds the most dol-
lars to their owner's bank account. So much by way
of objection and protest to the flippant, thoughtless
disparagement of trotting records.

Now, as previously stated, the breeder of the future
must bring to bear upon the speed breeding problem
great ability, keen discernment, optimistic enterprise
above and beyond what has so well succeeded in the
past if he hopes for greater success and desires to win

Trotting Records an Important Factor. 191

new laurels, and if "a careful study of the characteris-
tics of a family be of great importance" — and who
questions but what it is i — the inquiry at once forces
itself, why does not The American Trotter take up
the subject and treat it scientifically in its columns ?
It is well to remember that there are thousands to-day
interested in all phases of the breeding problem who
have not access, and never have had, to publications
treating upon the subject ; and some who have may
not find time in this busy, hustling age to pore over
tomes that wo'-.ld almost demand a life-time of genteel
leisure to read through and digest. And who can
better do this for them than the person, firm or corpo-
ration that they employ to do their thinking for them
and to point the way in the columns of publications
devoted to the subject at a stated price per annum ?

AV^hat horse breeders of to-<lny want are concentra-
ted facts — concise and terse, and couched in non-tech-
nical language — upon a basis of demonstrated accom-
plishment and no fanciful opinions or attempts to
bolster up exploded traditions, fanciful theories, and
obsti-'ite cross-road prejudices. Tlie publication that
8er\ s up such a menu to its readers will be as a
beacon light to point the way and confer a lasting
benefit upon the horse-breeding world. Lengthy cor-
respondence, however gossipy and interesting, no
matter how rounded tlie periods and smooth tiie dic-
tion, can never supidy tlie place of tlie solid and last-
ing. Let us liope that the latest horse publication.
The American Trotter, will lie the first to enter tliis
broad and largely uncultivated field and with its charac-
teristic enterprise and dash give to the horse-breeding
public and its readers what the article in question by

1112

Oatiikked Waiklkts.

fair and logical inference clearly intimates that it has
on tap in abunilant Hupply — the orij^in of the leading
families of race track horses, the different strains of
blood that are united in the most speedy, their develop-
ment and growth in speed, their leading traits and
idiosyncracies, particularly in relation to heredity. —
The American Trotter, December 3, 1891.

THE NEW ENGLAND FARM AND FARMER

THE old saying, "The Lord helps those who help
themselves," is as true and forceful to-day as
on the day when it was first uttered. The
converse is equally true and forceful. All know that
God does not furnish loaves of bread ready baked
because He demands and expects man's enterprise and
co-operation. He gives the seed time and the harvest,
and man, in obedience to His will and fiat, must do
the rest. If he fails to do his share, it is hardly fair
or becoming to throw the blame upon a benign and
kindly Providence.

That farming in New England is not what it should
be, either in variety, extent or results, goes without
saying, and it is the part of wisdom to seek the reason
and apply the remedy. It is well within the recollec-
tion of people now living when hundreds and thou-
sands of ducks, geese, turkeys, lambs, veal calves, as
well as horses, cows and oxen were raised in nearly

TiiK N'kw Hn

sn Kaiim ami Kaiimkh. \'X'

every fiirniitiK eoiiiiMi"iity, ami tlie fanner I'oiiin) a
reaily ami protitulile iii.irket for tlieiii when there were
no ineanx uf tran^|lllrtatilln other than turnpike rciailM,
Miir the many k<><>'I markets ill the numerous ami
liensely [Kipuhiteil eities comparalile with our ilay.

Ijurg(^ families, thrift, success, ami contentment wi'ro
then everywhere In evidence ami a sulistautial incre-
nii'iit rewanled tlii' earnest ami enterprising husiiaml-
inaii.

WitI: nipiilly increasing population ami growing
<le':iaml for every product of the farm, uml improved
agricultural implenu'nts ami conditions, it may be wed
to ask why fanners generally are now so unsuccessful,
impecunious, and discontented with their lot.

In the not remote jiast, hut liefore railroads were
built to outlying ])laces in Xew England, enterprising
farmers were not slow to raise flocks of lan;bs and tur-
keys that were driven over laud on foot hundreds of
miles to distant markets. The writer well reineinber.s
seeing such Hocks of lambs and turkeys gathered to-
gether ill the extreme northerly |)art of Vermont and
beyond the boundary line in Canada, and driven on
foot to Brighton, and farmers raised these Hocks and
farmers marketed these Mocks — they allowed no
middlenuiu as a factor ami profit sharer. WitI: in-
creased dennmd and improved facilities wliere are the
farmers in Xew England to-ilay who are as enterjjris-
ing and energetic? With lambs selling in the spring-
time and early sunnner at fifty to sixty cents ')er
pound, an<l turkeys at Thanksgiving at thirty cents
and more, who will say that both cannot be i)rofitabIy
raised and marketed in Xew Englanil .' And that
many of the abandone<l farms might not be profitably
devoted thereto?

If,

194

(jATHF.KF.n Waiki.etji.

It may uIho Ih- wi-ll to rvciM tlie fact tliat at no diH-
tant (lay tli«Ti' wore raiswl in Nnw Kngland breetling
laiiit)» that wiTo hoKI for xeviTal tlioUHanU dollars eacli,
and that U-came tlic foundation Htock of many of
tin- flncst HocUh of Hlieep in tlie world. Wliat has
lifcumc of tluH industry and tliiw enterprise in New
KuKland — tliis rieli reward for brains and effort!
Hail the chililren of these people kept pace witli the
development and value of the stock raised upon the
farms of their parents and ancestors, would we now
find them so generally members of the army of
■'rumblers and fault finders!

Morgan horses hail their origin and home in New
England — a ty])e of horse unexcelled and unequalled
in its day — a type of horse that s lould have been fos-
tered and preserved, and developtd to greater perfec-
tion and higher 8ttainment^■ by the descendants of
their more determined and enterprising ancestors.
The vigor of the Morgans was never questioned, and
their prepotent blood to-day successfully blends in
the pedigrees of the most noted horses of the world —
the American trotters. It was my good fortune, as
it was a deliglitful pleasure, to have for many years
enjoyed the acquaintance and friendship of the late
Archibald C. Harris, formerly superintendent of the
extensive ami successful stock farm of Denny and
Bush in Bridport, Vt., during the palmy days of the
great stallion, Daniel Lambert. Lest I may be sus-
pected if not directly charged witli exaggeration, I
will not state the earnings of this horse in the stud,
but the amount would annually approximate the net
profits of more than a half hundred farms of the state.
On the death of one of the owners the horse stock of

TiiK Nkw Exdi-AXD Farm anu Fak.mkk. li'.l

thia (arm wait vloRed nut at publio auutinn in KoHton
and it was the larj^Hxt hhIh of hnrites anil by far th»
higkegt prices were paid tliat were ever reali%e<l liitli-
erto at a public itale in New Kn^^land. Thin Hrm wan
also BuceesHful breeilera of tine merino sheep — Home
of their rams Helling; well up into the tliousands.

Nor were the M<>r;;an horses* the only noted horsesf
in New Kn^lan<l. The tanners of Maine were sutti-
ciently adventurous and eaterprisiux to secure in earli-
est times a son of tlie renowned imported Messenger,
who elevated tlie horse stock of the state to a liiuiier
level, and left his mark of superiority tliat is clearly
in evidence to-<luy, althoujth sadly hiwered by indiffer-
ence and neglect. (len. Knox was another New Kng-
land hot-ie tliat also left liis mark and made a fortune
for his owner; the first liorse in the country for whicli
the then fabulous amount of ijiri.uiH) was offered and
refused. Since his time ^I'i.'i.oiMi has bt^n paid for a
8in|;le horse by a resident of New England to a more
enterprising farmer and breeder in a western state.

A few years back the sale catalogues of an auction
firm announcing a sale of valuable blooded stock, con-
tained a map showing Boston as a central point, and
including the country within a radius of five hundred
miles. From their many previous sales and tabula-
tions they learned, and so published in this catalogue,
that seventy-five per cent, of all the fine horses bought,
and the long prices paiii for them — the kind that sohl
for one, two, five, ten, and fifty thousand dollars and
upwards — were bouglit and paid for by residents within
the territory shown. And yet with this great market
at their very doors it is unnecessary to ask how much
of all this expenditure profited the New England far-

196

Gathered Waiflets.

■\ 'it

mer. And yet we are told by them that horses cannot
be profitably raised in New England. Save the mark!

THE ORCHARDS OF NEW ENGLAND

also very generally set the seal upon the lack of ability
and enterprise of the farmers. The old orchards were
alike a credit and a source of profit to those who planned
and planted them, but to-day, alas! in their neglected
and overgrown condition they are neither a thing of
beauty nor profit — they are now too often but as the
decayed and decaying gravestones that mark the graves
of their former proud owners. No better soil or cli-
mate exists in this country than in many parts of New
i;n eland for the profitable cultivation of grapes, cher-
ries, peaches, apples and pears — and yet do the farmers
rise equal to their opportunities 3 In off fruit years
they as with a single voice bemoan the uncertain and
sad lot of the farmer, and in years of great abundance,
instead of getting a hustle on — to use a modem and
expressive colloquialism — and properly securing and
marketing their crops, with re-iterated emphasis again
bemoan their fate because there is such a superabund-
ance that "they are not worth the pickin."

I have often wondered if these farmers had to go to
the Pacific Coast to find a market for such crops or to
the poor house, at which place should we find them.
And yet the farmer of the Occident not only success-
fully disputes the Eastern market with his mote favored
brothers, but he also crosses the ocean and markets his
products in the British Isles and on the Continent of
Europe, and is happy and grows wealthy by so doing.

The trouble witli New England farming is not diffi-
cult to discover, and the farmers alone must apply the
remedy. Who will take the initiative and point the
way i — The American Cultivator, June 6, 1908.

A SOURCE OF INCOME.

* 1 .',

POSSIBILITIES OF THE TROUT BROOK.

BETWEEN the upper and nether stones of gov-
ernmental indifference and neglect on the one
hand, and diminished and diminishing values
on the other, the lot of the farmer is not one to be
envied ; and, judging the future by the past, if amelior-
tion comes to him at all it will be because of his
awakened entrrprise, skill and perseverance, and by
adapting himself to the new conditions imposed by an
advanced and advancing civilization.

It behooves him to abandon antiquated, worthless
ideas and methods, profitless labor, and unremunera-
tive efforts which in other times and other circum-
stances may have been both wise and profitable, but
which under present conditions are neither one nor
the other. He must advance by long leaps and place
himself abreast of the civilization of to-day and its
demands if he would receive the recompense of the
enterprising and deserving.

One of the ways in which this may be done, and
which has proved highly successful and very profit-
able iu some parts of our country, is the restocking
of the trout brooks.

We have a country most beautifully diversified by
hill and dale, sylvan grove and fertile field ; and the
rippling brook, ever sparkling in the sun, ever sing-
ing its tuneful melody as it winds its tortuous course

I''

, iS

198

Gathered Waiplets.

J
i ..

i '1

through the meadow, adds undying charms to the land-
scape. As we look upon the wealth of marsh mari-
golds which fringe its margin, tread upon the rich
carpet of violets, and behold the nodding watercress in
its pellucid depths, dull and sodden indeed must be the
individual who does not find new inspiration rising
within him, his mind and heart lifted up to higher
things, his daily toil sweetened and the burdens of life
materially lightened. But sentiment alone pays no
interest upon the mortgage on the farm, and it neither
makes good soup for the table nor fuel for the fire,
but joined with sense it makes an invincible combina-
tion that is sure to triumph over every obstacle and
win success.

In former times these brooks abounded in toothsome,
gamy trout that rejoiced the heart of the angler when
he stole an hour from the exhausting labor and drudg-
ery of the farm and spent it in their capture no less
than when the result furnished the family a highly
prized and toothsome meaL

Many of the most valued recollections of men now
bowed down under the weight of years, who have
achieved highest distinction in the halls of legislation,
on the bench, and in collossal manufacturing, mercan-
tile and financial enterprises, are the days spent in
boyhood beside the trout brooks when an indulgent
parent granted them a holiday from the drudgery of
their daily toil

Owing largely to the cutting off of the woodlands
and the exposure of the brooks to the burning sun, ex-
cessive drouth,and much fishing, the brooks are now well
nigh depleted, and they furnish but little incentive,
pleasure or reward to the most patient, persis ient angler.

A Source of Income.

199

Many of our states, wisely realizing the importance
of so doing, and tlie great economic advantages result-
ing therefrom, have established hatcheries for the arti-
ficial propagation of trov* for the purpose of restock-
ing the streams, and to n •. le the work general, and so
the least wealthy may lia\ the benefit thereof, young
(alevin) trout are furnished free of charge to all who
apply for them, provided they have suitable waters in
which to liberate them.

Strange as it may seem, statistics show that the
farmers above all others who should be interested in
this work have been least so, and philanthropists and
the much despised sportsmen have done the bulk of
the work of re-stocking the streams that has been
accomplished.

Surely this must be owing to tlie fact that the at-
tention of farmers has not been sufficiently called
thereto, or that its importance is not fully realized.

The farmers cannot be indifferent in this matter to
the gospel which they endeavor to embody in their
everyday life — to make two blailes of grass grow
where but one grew before; to the greater attraction
this would give to the farm in the eyes of the growing
boy and make him contented to stay thereon instead of
drifting to the distant city too often to be swallowed
up in its temptations and snares ; to the consciousness
of having brought buck to tlie waters of the brook on
the old homestead one of its chief attractions for the
grandfather whose dust has long since mingled with
the mold in the churchyard ; and to have placed within
his reach one of the most palatable and valued food
fishes.

Should the mercenan.- alone prompt, there is no other

*it

200

Gathered Waiflets.

part of the fanu that will so well reppy all necessary
trouble anil expense, as the laws of trespass come to
his aid and protect him in his riglits. He can sell for
a good price daily penniasions to fish, or lease the
brook by the season and count a clean gain of many
dollars without reference to a backward spring oi
untoward weather conditions at harvest time. Many
farmers now make good money by taking summer
boarders and what greater attraction to offer than
a well-stocked trout brook f And who more ready to
give up good dollars of the realm and in liberal quan-
tity than the city sportsman in exchange for a well-
filled creel? or wliat more pleasant and inexpensive
entertainment for one's city friends and customers
than a day spent under bluest skies beside the purling
trout brook!

The fish hatcheries located in different states are
now about to make their annual distribution without
charge, but should more be demanded than the capac-
ity of the different hatcheries can supply, many pri-
vate parties engaged in the business in different parts
of the country can furnish unlimited quantities at
merely nominal prices, and there exists no good reason
why the trout brooks of the land should not become
more prolific ti...u ever befoie and a source of pleasure
and revenue to their owners. — New Euflland Farmer,
August 1, 1896.

HOW SABATTIS GOT HIS CHRISTMAS
DINNER.

"The Great Spirit, tlie Creator, Bsniled upon his helpless
Children"

^^ry^HE daughter of Natanis will have fresh meat
I for Christmas and be merry. Sabattis' bow
is strong and his arrow true. Sabattis
will go."

The great logs in the crude stone fire-place V-v.rned
fiercely, an<l the crackling flames gave warmth and
added cheer and comfort to the little log cabin.
Jerked moose meat of the last killing in the deep
snows of winter time hung suspended from the rafters,
bear skins and other peltry adorned the walls, and
beds of elastic, fragrant spruce boughs built a few
feet above the floor upon light, springing poles of
hackmatack in the corners of the cabin opposite to
the fireplace, ogether with some cooking utensils and
crude articles of furniture, completed the furnishings
and adornment of the cabin home of Sabattis and the
daughter of Natanis, .he chief of the tribe, now his
squaw for a few years.

Humble as was this home it was a palace in conven-
ience and comfort in comparison with the bark and
skin wigwams of but a few years before, and which
were the only habitations known to the Indians even
in coldest winter weather before the advent of the

202

Gathered Waiplets.

1 U

missionaries, Recollects and Jesuits, who thus im-
pressed them with Christian influences, the sanctity of
the family, the superiority of the sedentary as opposed
to the nomadic life, and other Christian virtues.

" But sposem bad Heengleshmans come ag'in from
the land of the south-wind way off and shootem our
black gown, burn our church, and kill your squaw and
papooses, and all the peoples t Then there is no snow
to get him the game," remonstrated the wife and
mother.

" Natanis is strong. His braves have the heart of
bears and the eyes of all the stars. If the Engleesh
come they will find a grave-yard. The snow-maker
made a big ring around the moon last night — he will
give plenty of snow. Sabattis will go before the sun
gets out of bed to-morrow and our fire will cook fresh
meat to make us glad at Christmas."

This conversation took place more than one hun-
dred and fifty years ago at Naurantsouak, now Nor-
ridgewok, on the banks of the Kennebec river, in the
Linguage ;.f the Conibas, later known as the Norridge-
woks, an extensive tribe of the great Abenaki nation.

During the afternoon Sabattis visited some of the
warm ravines between the jutting, craggy hillsitie? and
gathered an armful of trailing arbutus — the great
swelling pink buds needing only the blessing of warmth
and moisture to blossom forth in all their wealth of
color and fragrance as in early spring.

He fashioned three beautiful garlands which he
placed in water in water-tight basins made from white
birch bark, and as the little chapel bell sounded the
Angelus he wended his way thither and placed one
upon the main altar beneath the lamp of perpetual
adoration, anotlier upon the altar of Our Lady, and the

How Sabattis Got Hi8 Christmas Dinner. 203

third upon the altar dedicated to the holy man, Saint
Joseph.

Long before the break of day Sabattis started out
alone upon his joumi to secure good cheer for the
Yuletide season in his humble cabin. AVinter had
not yet set in, there was but an apology for snow upon
the ground, and but little ice had formed along the
shores of the slack water.

His moccasins pointed towards the head watere of
the Sebastacook where it takes its course from the foot
hills and mountains beyond. Camp was made the
first night many miles away in the wilderness towards
the land of the setting sun. He had seen no game
nor signs thereof but when the snow would come all
would be changed. The trail was resumed with earli-
est dawn and every nook and corner carefully, noise-
lessly scrutinized and explored — and yet no deer, cari-
bou, or moose !

The day was leaden and lifeless ; dense snow clouds
banked the horizon ; no sunshine broke through the
tree-tops to tell him the hour or location. Snow in
great broad flakes began to fall, and darkness follow-
ing soon after, Sabattis made camp near the summit of
the divide which separates the Androscoggin river
from the Kennebec. The hooting of owls and the
howling of hungry wolves were his only companion-
ship during the night. The morning broke clear and
intensely cold and plenty of dry, fluffy snow upon the
ground made ideal conditions for successful still hunt-
ing.

Sabattis would now surely get fresh meat for Christ-
mas. With brave heart he started out early following
along the highlands which skirt the southern shore of

204

Gathered Waiplets.

the principal tribntary stream as it journeys along in
its course to join with its fellows to swell the waters of
the Kennebec.

He soon came to the tracks of a large buck which
led up the sloping hillside towards the heavy growth
of timber near its summit. These he stealthily
followed for some time until he came to a place where
a Loup Cervier, the Indian Devil (f the wilderness,
had pounced down from a tree upon the unsuspecting
deer and dragging him to earth had killed him, tear-
ing to pieces and destroying in his blind rage what
he could not devour.

He was soon upon a new trail which he followed
for miles only to find where a pack of wolves had
taken it up and cut him out ; — and so it was through-
out the day — trail after trail taken up and followed
only to end in disappointment.

The night of the third day found him making camp
in a ravine which lies between the range of hiUs which
divide the Wabaqnasset, now the Sandy river, from
the Sebasticook. He was tired. Every arrow was
still in his quiver. But he was not dispirited. He
was going to have fresh meat to furnish good cheer
for the Christmas dinner.

Did not la bonne sainte Vierge tell him so when he
placed the votive offer ing of Arbutus upon her altar?
Did she not say "Sabattis will succeed!" "Sabattis
will succeed!"

The nigh* was intensely cold, but in a hastily con-
structed and comfortable lean-to before a roaring fire
on the leeward side of a great boulder in the ravine,
and wrapped in his blanket and caribou skin and
fatigued with the exertions of the previous day, but

How Sabattis Got His Christmas Dinner. 205

entirely confident of ultimate gaccegg, Sabattis was
soon lost in deep and restful sleep.

With the earliest dawn he was again upon the trail
when his keen eyes soon discovered a magnificent
buck above him on the hillside within easy range.
He had just arisen from the bed wherein he slept and
was in the act of stretcliing himself as is their wont.

With the seeming speed and stillness of a flash of
lightning sped the flint-tipped arrow of Sabattis and
soon the snow was crimsoned with the spurting heart
blood of the noble buck. A few wild bounds and to
earth he fell never to rise again — a few convulsive
twitchings of muscles and soon all was over.

' 'La bonne sainte Vierge tells true ! La bonne sainte
Vierge tells true!" rang out clear and joyous on the
morning air. The act of dis-emboweling was soon per-
formed, and cutting some small beech sapplings Sabat-
tis returned to his camp-fire where he passed and re-
passed them over the coals to extract the frost and
render them pliant and tough, and finally twisted them
into an endless rope withe of sufiicient length to encir^
cle the antlers and pass over his shoulders, and so
harnessed to his quarry he turned his steps home-
ward.

Strengthened with the strength born of success and
cheered by the anticipated welcome which he knew
awaited him by the anxious ones at home, his burden
slipped lightly over the snow and scarcely impeded
his footsteps.

He journeyed on until he had crossed the last ridge
of land which divides the Wabaquasset river from the
Sebasticook, the shore of which he reached soon after
mid-day. Here he made his camp-fire, broiled tid-bits

806

Gatherid Waiflkts.

of veniaon, impaled upon a green forked sapling, over
the burning coals, and ate his noon-day meal.

He tested the ice npon the river, and on the flat
water at lei'^t it was safe and his heart was glad. He
could now more easily and quickly travel two miles
than he could one through the woods, and the log cabin
and the loved ones weie already <><)veral miles nearer.

He was now hurrying along upon the ice which was
slightly covered with snow, and his burden was much
lighter. Ah ! But what sound is that ? A tremor
shook his sturdy frame. A deathly pallor spread
over his bronzed face. He stood as if paralyzed. Again!
Ah, yes ! and nearer ! The dreaded wolves are in full
pursuit ! It required but a moment to think, decide,
and act !

He would leave the forequarters to satisfy the raven-
ous wolves while he escaped with the saddle. They
were soon cut asunder and shoulderiug his burden
Sabattis ran as Sabattis never ran before. Fear
accelerated his i^teps and hope spurred him on.

Louder and more fierce grew the howling of the
pack, and as he cast a backward look at a bend in the
river a mile away, he saw the angry wolves fighting
and tearing each other in their attempts to secure a
morsel of the abandoned meat.

Lucky escape for which Sabattis was duly grateful,
and he forgot not to offer a prayer to the holy Virgin
in thanksgiving for her good offices in his behalf.

Bat would the wolves be content with their portion
and slink back into the depth of the forest when they
had devoured it ? Or would they again take up his
trail and follow in pursuit?

He well knew their cowardly nature when alone, but

How Sabattis Qot Hm Chmstmas Dinmu. 207

what would they not do when gathered in a Ui'tro
pack ami spurred on by hunger and the tante of
blood t

Beads of perHpiration rolled down his cheeks, but
with renewed energy he increased his pace and hurried
on. The hideous howling of the wolves had died away
in liie distance uml he took new courage.

He must now be miles away from tUem. Fatigue
seeme<l to overpower him. Nature called a halt. He
would rest for a few minutes.

He swung his load from his shoulders and sat down
upon a rock beneath a towering pine tree upon the
bank of the river, turning his face in the direction of
the enemy.

He had scarcely sat down when, horror of horrors I
— there in sneaking, noiseless and swift pursuit came
the fleet-footed, blood-thirsty enemy, hot upon his
trail ! Scarcely had he time to climb the tree beyond
their reach before it was surrounded, his saddle of
venison torn to shreds and devoured — and the friendly
pine tree was his only salvation from a similar fate I

Be the disappointment now what it may Sabattis
was too well instructed by the Black gown to forget
to offer up a fervent prayer for his merciful deliver-
ance; and, although he could not see how, the good
Sttinte Vierge would yet make glad his Christmas!

It was a gloomy, murky afternoon. No ray of sun-
shine gave added light or warmth. There is no twi-
light in the woods in winter. Sabattis will have no
comfortable lean-to to-night. Sabattis can build him
no camp-fire to give him warmth and comfort. Sabat-
tis must stay in the tree-top. How long I Until help
comes? When will help come!

208

Oathirid W*iri,iT».

Meanwhile the air was violently aisailed by the
mofit hideouH noises — the snarling, growling and fight-
ing of the wolves over a bone or shred of meat which
bad escaped their fury.

If 8abba»is could i make them destroy one
another 1 Sabattis will try. His bow was safely upon
his back and his quiver had suffered the loss of but
a single arrow since he left home ui)on his self-imposed

task. . .

Placing one foot upon a projecting limb and twinmg
the other leg around another a little higher up and
nearly at a right angle with the first, be braced him-
self against the tree, took careful aim, and the twang
of the string told tlie power and speed it gave to the
arrow. An intense howl of piiin, clearly heard above
the general din, and spouting blood, told that the
arrow had found its mark in the heart of the most
ferocious dog wolf of the pack.

At the smell of blood he was pounced upon and
torn limb from limb by the others. In their blind
frenzy they attacked one another and the woods eclioe<l
and re-echofil with the unearthly noise.

The arrows of Sabattis Hew thick and unerring until
to his surprise and regret lie discovero<l that but one
remained in his quiver !

The ground was strewn with dead and dying wolves
and still the carnage went on. The unusual excitement
and terror of the scene occupied all his thoughts, but
now as night descended and the cold increased he
found himself nearly freezing. He ascended to the
thickest branches near the tree top for greater protec-
tion, wrapped himself in his caribou akin and bound
himself to the trunk of the tree by his blanket lest he

How SABiTTia Got Hra CHanTMAR Diirifra. 800

be overcome by ileep «nd itU from hii Infty perch
among the devonring wolvee.

When the moon arose it revealed dead and dying
wolves in all directions. Some of the badly wounded
were slowly dragging themselves to the cover of the
woods, while from the few remaining came feebk
whines and moans as if overcome by the dreadful car-
nage, satiety, and wounds.

Exhausted by fatigue and hunger Sabattis passed a
troubled night, and in his dreams he lived over again
the adventures, excitements, and dangers of the day.
Again and again he had met with success ; again and
again did his sqi- -' and his papooses run forth to
meet him, laden with the spoils of the chase ; again
and again did the earth rise up beneath bis feet and
all became dark and noisome !

Day at last dawned and arousing himself from his
troubled slumbers he discovered that the last wolf
had taken <ts departure — only the sickening sight of
the blood stained snow and of dead wolves torn asun-
der and scattered about, remained to tell of his peril
and the deadly encounter.

Carefully scrutinizing every possible place that still
might screen a lurking enemy Sabattis slowly de-
scended from the tr'^e. It was the day before Christ-
mas, lie mur be home that night He could not turn
back, lie had but a single arrow in his (juiver. He
had no fresh meat Would la bonne sainte Vierge
disappoint ? — oh, no 1 no ! no ! Did she not say "Sa-
battis will succeed 1 " " Sal attis will succeed ! "

He would get his fresh meat, his heart would be
glad, his cabin would have good cheer, his Christmas
would be merry.

210

Gathered Waiflets.

He hunted aronnd amid the scene of conflict to find
some of his arrows, but, alas! not a sonnd one did he
find — only the broken shafts of some, the flint arrow
heads gone from others, the feathers to ensure accu-
racy of flight stripped and torn away from others.

With a heart less buoyant than at any time since he
left home he crossed the river to the opposite side
from which the stragglin^j wolves had taken their
departure and hastened on with all speed until he
journeyed several miles away knowing that it was
useless to look for any game nearer to the scene of
the conflict and uproar of the previous afternoon and
night.

With advancing day he became more wary and cau-
tious. His stealthy step fell noiseless upon the fleecy
snow, his keen eye sought out and investigated every
likely spot and possible lurking place where the quarry
he sought might be con'-ealed. All the knowledge and
skill of the wily Indian were working at their best.

But no game came in range — and not even an old
track was found in the snow to give encouragement
Every hour brought him nearer to the settlement and
his chances were rapidly growing less and less, but the
Virgin's promise still buoyed him up, and the goddess
Hope still spurred him on.

He needed no sun in the heavens to tell him it was
past mid-day and that night would soon be at hand.
He worked back toward the top of the divide where
he hoped he might find some game yarded. He fol-
lowed the crest of the hill with all the patience and
skill of tlie most ardent still huuter — every sense keen,
alert, tense. But no pleasing sight of game rewarded
his efforts. His heart sank within him.

I I f

How Sabattis Got His Christmas Dinner. 211

Must lie go home empty-handed f The afternoon
was well spent and he had now but a few miles to go.

But what a Christinas eve for the proud Sabattis!
Fate as cruel as stern had deprived him of his fresh
meat and Christinas gooil cheer. The day was spent
and night was at lianil. Tliere was no use to hunt
longer. He would go home.

The relation of his adventure will at least tell the
tale of his success, and his fortunate escape will break
the force and dull the edge of the cruel, crushing dis-
appointment. With tired footsteps and a heavy heart
Sabattis slowly descended the sloping hillside and in
the early twilight he was again upon the ice of the
Sebasticook. The ice along the shore was safe but
occasional leaches of open water were discernible
where the current was swift.

He hastened on — but was it the haste of despair?
Sabattis would have saitl no! He will yet succeed, he
cannot see how — but somewhere — somehow. " Sabat-
tis will succeed! " " Sabattis will succeed !" kept ring-
ing in his ears — and to him the promise was as real
as life itself.

The twilight of eaily evening deepened into the
darkness of night and he hurried on.

The great full moon rose resplendent in the east,
and the outlying cabins of the village came into view.
Already the windows of the little chapel are aglow
with light, as loving hands of old and young make it
more beautiful with a wealth of fragrant evergreen as
a fitting decoration for the midnight Mass which is
soon to usher in the feast of the Nativity.

The open channel in the river swept in close to the
shore.

'I
f
1^

212

Gathered Waiflets.

But hark! wliat music is that in tlio air? The honk-
ing, honking of a flock of wild geese on their way to
their winter home in soutliern waters falls like sweet-
est music upon the ears of Sabattis. He crouched low
in the bushes. Down pitched the flock into the open
water for the night within easy range.

They had scarcely alighted when the sharp twang
of his bow string is' heard on the still night air, and
there tumbling and floundering about are two fat geese
pinioned together by an arrow which passed through
the neck of one and was safely anchored in the body
of the other.

Ho cut a long sapling with which he brought them
within his reach and soon there was joy in the cabin of
Sabattis, and fresh meat and good cheer for the Christ-
mas dinner. — vl««a/s of Saint Anthony's Shrine,
Worcester, Mass., June, 1901.

FERN'OLIFFE.

(founded ox FACT.)

AGAIN the groat Christian festival of the Nativ-
ity was at liand, and Fenicliffe, the home of the
Aldgers for many generations, welcomed back
from one of the leading female colleges of the coun-
try, its vouiig mistress, the only daughter of the house-
lio"lil, aceomi)anie.l by two of her classmates of the
senior year, to sj>end the Christmas holidays.

The Aldgers proudly traced their genealogy away

Ferxcliffe.

2111

liack for CPiiturii's — long ycurs before the laiuling of
the Mayllower — and a crest and coat-of-aniis earveil
ill oak, now black witli age, that adoriieil the library,
was a prizi'd heirUioiii from the distant past, wliicli
prochiinu'd their family distinction nii(h'r many of the
(Jatliolic kings of I'lngland before Puritanism was
known in the worhl, and generations before the brutal
crimes of tlie (k'baucliee, King Henry V'lll., gave birth
to mo(h'rn I'rotestantisni and h light hi>ting ilisgrace
u|)on tlie tlirone. But during the religious upheaval
of the sixteenth century they, witli many others, were
roblied of their ancient birthright, an<l had ever since
remaiiu'il without the household of the faith.

FernclitTe was built in early Colonial clays upon a
gently slopii'g eminence on the outskirts of the town,
with ample grounds surrounding it, and it was the
proud boast of its owner that it had never passed out
of the family ownership.

The newly cleared land when first prepared for
settlement, was somi oxergrowii with a riotous profu-
sion of ferns, from which it took its name. These had
long since gi\eii place to a wealth of foreign trees,
shrubs, and rare exotics; but the original name was
proudly retained, and Fi'riiclitfe was now widely
known. For many years tlie extensixc Colonial man-
sion stood like a solitary sentinel upon the acclivity,
but, keeping pace with the growth of the country, the
town burst its bounds and swelled into a populous city,
anil it was now surrounded on all sides by modern
residences, giving it the appearance of a rare antique
in a renaissance setting.

For several generations the Ahlgers had been
noted as inventors, manufacturers, and successful busi-

214

Gathered Waiplets.

ness men, anil their skill, business ability, and enter-
prise brought them fame and wealth which had been
multii)lied manifold by their extensive real estate hold-
ings from early times, which had grovn immensely in
value, and now they were classed with the oldest, most
distinguisliod and wealthy families of the land. The
ancestors of the present family came to this country
ill early Puritan times, and they anti their descendants
were ever devotedly loyal to Puritanic traditions, pre-
judices, and practices. In no one particular were they
more so than in their blind and unreasoning hate of
the religion which our Saviour, Jesus Christ, came
down to earth in human foi-m to establish — of every-
thing savoring of Catholic belief and practice.

Even with the growth of toleration and a more lib-
eral spirit around them — despite the public school
wherein it is boasted all touch elbows and learn nmtual
toleration and respect — despite the good lives and
deeds of their Catholic neighbors — despite the many
opportunities olTered by sermons, lectures, books and
periodical publications for correct information and
knowledge — tliey .still fondly clung to their early
prejudices as a priceless heritage and refused to un-
learn the false lessons of the past. The AMgers were
in this but a type of many of their neighbors and others
of the (' scendants of the early settlers.

When the cruelly maligned and despiseil Roman
Catholics first settled in the town they were violently
opposed, denounced, and o.stracized by their Puritan
and Pilgrim neighbors in flagrant opposition to the
teaching of the (iohlen Rule, the highest test of Chris-
tianity, and to which, while given free rein to their
blind prejudice and unchristian hate, they volubly and

Fkrncliffe.

215

persistently proclaimed that they were devotedly loyaL

Such was the home, and such the environment of
the favored daughter of Femclifle, now in the early
flush of womanhood— and yet with all her untoward
religious training and surroundings, possessed of every
lovable feminine quality, among which unselfishness
and loyalty to principle were most prominent

The early Catholic settlers brought with them
their love for the festivals of the church, and to none
were they more di. . jted than that commemorating the
birth of the Saviour; — but the proper observance of
Christmas during many generations was vehemently
opposed and condemned by Pilgrim and Puritan and
their descendants as savoring too much of "popery."

The leaven thus introduced by the early Catholic
settlers has leavened the whole, and now the most
narrow and bigoted of former times enter with zest
into the spirit of this joyful season.

Following the good old and beautiful custom of
the early Christian Church, which is now so generally
practiced, of bestowing love tokens upon friends and
alms upon the poor at this season, and so manifesting
Christian fellowship and bringing a ray of sunshine
into many desolate homes, the young ladies had been
very busy for several days planning and providiug for
many agreeable surprises to the homes of the poor and
needy throughout the city.

The day before Christmas was an ideal winter's
day, clear and crisp, with ample snow to make excel-
lent sleighing. Early in the day the family team,
beautiful pair of dapple grey prancing cobs, richly
caparisoned in massive silver-mounted harness, and
elegant strings of bells extending around their bodies.

\'9 :\

218 Gathbbbd Waiflkts.

attached to a RuBsian sleigh of ample ppoportions,
weU laden with gifts, and its fair occupants well
wrapped in furs, took its departure from Femclifle
upon its hallowed mission, and. with a short interval
for lunch at noontime, the day was none too long to
make the numerous calls which had been planned, to
bestow the generous gifts of food and clothing, and
to speak words of comfort and good cheer so much
needed and so highly appreciated in the desolate homes
TV liere they called.

The day had passed and Christmas eve was weU
advanced before the last visit had been made, the last
benefaction bestowed, and the last kind words spoken.
Then homeward turned the fatigued but happy minis-
tering angels, delighted with the success of their endeav-
ors and their many and varied pleasant experiences.

Their nearest route home took them through the
principal business street of the city, which was now
aglow with electric lights, and the streets and side-
walks were filled with teams, and people on foot laden
with bundles, whose words of hearty salutation and
good wishes were filled with the joyful spint of the
season. The surging masses before the background
of the extensive and attractive displays in the large
plate glass windows of the stores seemed like a bright
picture of fairy land. ■ • ^u * „.„

But, hark! what piercing cry of pam is that now
heard above all else i „,.■.„

The wailing and sobbing of a small boy m charge
of a policeman, on their way to the police station, is
as a discordant note, where all else is harmony.

The hearts of the ladies are touched, and the young
mistress requests the coachman to turn about and fol-

Febncliffe.

217

low them to their destinatioD, where all arrive simul-
taneonsly. The little fellow was so thinly clad that he
was bennmbed, and so exhausted by the cold and grief
that for a time he wag wholly unable to give any ex-
planation or account of himself. Restoratives having
been administered, and being made warm and comfort-
able, he recovered sufficiently to tell them, in answer
to their questions, where he lived with his mother
before she died — that his father was killed in a rail-
way accident before he wa„ old enough to remember
him — that he had no relatives — that his mother worked
very hard and was sick a long time before she died —
that she often took him with her to Saint Anthony's
shrine to ask for blessings — that she told him before
she died to go to the shrine and ask Saint Anthony to
find a home for him — that he was on his way for this
purpose, but seeing so many people, and attracted by
the sights in the store windows, he lost his way and
began to cry, when the policeman came along and took
charge of him.

Momentarily soothed by the restoratives and the
unusual kindly sympathy and assurances of those sur-
rounding him, his whole being seemed changed, as
though he had entered a new and better world; but,
anon, tears again welled up and piteous sobs escaped
his lips, as if on second thought a picture of the past
flashed before his mind and that he read therein a
forecast of the future.

Being again comforted and reassured, his tears were
wiped away, and a smile passed over his wan face,
plainly telling the thanks which his tongue could nut

' i

A consultation was held when it was decided, pend-

218

Oatrkrbd Waifletb.

ing judicial invertigation and digpodtion of his caie,
to send the little feUow to the orphanage in charge of
the Bisters of Mercy, which was located within their
convent grounds not far distant, and Miss Aldger
kindly volunteered to take him there in her comfort-
able sleigh. Of course she well knew the location of
the convent and orphanage, bu* nothing of the Sisters
or of their work save only what <he had learned from
the lips of bigotry and prejudice, which had taught
her that convents and their inmates were to be abhorred
and shunned;— but now yielding to the promptings of
humanity she was about to cross a convent threshold
for the first time.

Carefully bundling up the little fellow in some spare
wraps and covering him with the fur robes with which
the sleigh was amply provided, they were soon within
sight of the convent, which the little fellow gladly
recognized, as here it was he came with his mother to
seek the intercession of Saint Anthony whose shrine
was within the enclosure.

Passing within the outer gate he pointed out the
shrine on the left and besought his fair attendant and
protector to go with him and pray for a home at the
feet of the Saint This appeal, coming liks an unex-
pected flash from a clear sky, was too much for Miss
Frances and t e drew back. She could join heartily
with others in philanthropic work, but now to kneel
before a Catholic shrine!

Pulling her by the hand and urging her in a child-
like way to come and kneel where his mother often did
with him, she could not longer resist the pleadings of
his heart so clearly and eloquently told in words and
sweetly mirrored in his upturned, pleading face.

Ferncuffc.

219

They approached and knelt in the shrine, when a
thrill ran through her frame and she quickly rose to
her feet as if startled by an electric shock.

What bad happened f Who can tell 1

Was it only the strange experience of going upon
her knees in a Catholic shrine ! — or was it an angelic
visitation that startled bert

The orphan's petition having been made, aud smil-
ing with joy he again took the hand of bis benefactress
and turned toward the convent door. Looking up into
ber face be inquired if she had prayed for a home, too.

Being answered in the negative, he insisted that she
return with him to the shrine and pray for a borne
also. She hesitated, she gently remonstrated, but the
lad was importunate, doubtless thinking that she was
homeless like himself. He told ber that Saint An-
thony w.'is c;oing to find a home for bim and he knew
be would fiu<i one for her if she would only ask bim.

Whether to please the child, or for a higher motive,
she returned to the shrine where she remained upon
her knees for ?oni ■ time, and then both retumetl to the
convent.

Oently ringing the bell the door was opened by a
Sister to receive them. A few words of explanation
and they were invited into the reception room, where
they were informed that the Reverend Mother would
soon attend them. It was at the hour of the evening
devotions of the Sisters, ami as they passed the open
door leading to the chapel on t'eir way to the recep-
tion room the Sister genuflected, and her example was
followed by the others. The altar, ablaze with light,
and decorated with a wealth of evergreens, flowers,
and costly laces, the fragrant incense, the devoutness

220

Oatiiebbd Waiflkth.

of the Sisters, tlie HtilliioHH broken only by the Unkling
of the bell at the moment of benediction— all conspired
to make such a picture of aevotion and adoration as
she never drouuieil had existence, and which touohwl
her profoundly and stirred into life a chord which had
never before been touched. A revelation had come
to her, imd already ii mountain of prejudice liad been
removed.

A little later she met the Reverend Mother m the
reception room and explained the nature of her call
and the attendant circumstances.

Being assured that her charge would be well cared
for she took her departure and was soon at home
where the evening was spent in narrating the experi-
ences and adventures of the day. None was more
thrilling and to none was more attention given than
to the story of the orphan boy and the observations
and impressions of Miss Frances at the shrine of Saint
Antliony and in the convent.

No relative of tlie orphan boy was discovered and
he was given by the Court into the charge of the Saint
Vincent de Paul Society, to wliose attention the case
had been calK-d, and thus was he saved from a sentence
to one of the institutions of tlie State. He was re-
turned to the convent orphanage to be cared for and
reared in accorilance with true Christian principles.
He was bright and quick to learn and his unselfish,
winning ways soon made him a great 'avorite.

Before resuming her studies at the end of the holi-
day season, Miss Frances manifested her continued
interest in the boy by calling several times at the con-
vent to see him, and this interest she continued by
oorresi)ondenc(" after her return to her college home.

Feiincuffe.

221

Coinmvncement day at lant arrived and the vast con-
oourse of relative!) and friendii of the graduating clasH
were an u unit in Maying tliat no previuuii valedictorian
liad ever achieved greater hucoush or won higher dis-
tinction tlian did Frances Aldger on this occasion,
and she wuh overwhehned with congraiulutions and
praise.

Tlie daily rouml of duties — the hopes, anxieties
and ambitions of years — liud culminated in happy
fruition — the interchange of class mementoes had
been made — old friendships had been plightetl anew —
the last farewells had been »i)oken — the class broke
into the units of which it was composed — and all re-
turneil to their homes to enter upon some of the broad
avenues of life through the college door which now
ciosed behind them.

The return of Miss Aldger to Ferncliffe was the
occasion of great festivities in her honor, and her
accomplishments, beauty, and lovable qualities, joined
with the many advantages which wealth and social dis-
tinction give, made her a popular favorite and brought
her admirers and suitors from some of the most promi-
nent and distinguislied families of the country.

Hhe made frecjuent visits to the convent to inquire
after the welfare of the little fellow whom she, in a
measure, regardetl as her ward. Slie was much inter-
ested in the Sisters and all she saw of their daily life.
Their simplicity, their happiness, their daily round of
duties so cheerfully unilertaken and performed without
ostentation or display, and particularly their ])hilan-
thropy, matle a deep anil lasting impression upon her,
and the false lessons so industriously taught her in
earlier years and the prejudices so tho-iuKhly instilled

222

Oathimd WAirLin.

melted rapidly away. The light of faith dawned, oon-
viotion followed, and soon after she announoed to her
imrentK her conversion to the one true faith — the
r'>ligion of her ancestors.

They met her avowal with violent, frensied opposi-
tion, and with greater vehemence than ever denounced
the doctrines and practices of the church of which they
knew nothing save the caricatures whidi a morbid
Puritanism had invented and propagated. These
proved unavailing and an extended trip abroad was
as fruitlessly proposed; her position in society and
the greater triumphs and distinction which would
surely be hers were urged without effect; the dishonor
she would bring upon the family name, which had been
so proudly borne for generations, had no influence or
weight; and finally the threat that she would be dii-
owned and disinherited weakened not her decision.

Her sensitive nature recoiled from the contempla-
tion of the pain which she knew her loyalty to the dic-
tates of her conscience would cause her parents, and
with every resource that she could command she
sought to reason with them; to prove the divine insti-
tution of the Church to which all were commanded to
listen, or be considered as the heathen and the publi-
can; its holiness, unity, beauty, and unbroken contin-
uity since tlie days of its Founder upon earth ; but to
all they turne<i a deaf ear and refused to listen.

She was received into the Church on the second
anniversary of her first call at the convent, when she
and her orphan ward received their first communion

togetlier.

Her entrance into the one true fold stirred society
to its very depths ; she was sent as an outcast from the

FntKCLIITK

SS8

parental roof and diiinherited. After matnre delihe^
atioD and prayerfnl coniideration she entered the
novitiate, and in dne time renounced the world and
all its allarementa, was professed, and assame<l the
black habit of a Sister of Mercy.

Neither time, the great alleviator, nor her conntless
appeals to the throne of grace brought balm to Fern-
cliffe. Years had come and gone since the beautiful
and brilliant daughter had exchanged the luxuries
and attractions of the world for a secluded convent
home and the austerities of a religious life. On her
departure from the home of her birth, childhood, and
youth, everything suggestive of her presence there
had been removed, and for years her name had not
been spoken within its walls. Disowned and disin-
herded, she was no more to her parents than if she
hao never been — a sacritice to their cruel i)igotry and
unreasoning hate and a striking exemplification of
their practice of the Golden Rule.

Meanwhile the lad had reached the years of early
boyhood when a distinguished and very wealthy busi-
ness man from a neighboring state, accompanied by
his wife, w 'lile on their summer vacation, made a tran-
sient visit at the convent They were much interested
in parochial schools and they were invited in to
inspect the orphans' school, where they were enter-
tained by an exhibition of the ability of the children
and a short programme of literary exercises and music.

Because of his attainments and manliness, and be-
cause he recalled their only child of about the same
age, whom the grim reaper had claimed a few years
before, they became much interested in the orphan
boy of whom we write.

224

Gathered Waiflets.

Soon after their return to their home they made
application to adopt him, and being in every way
worthy and able to give him every advantage he was
surrendered into their charge and legaUy adopted.
In his new home he was given every opportunity for
advancement which he improved. After completing
his college course and winning highest honors he
entered the seminary and has since become a distin-
guished priest.

Mindful of his own early years he has founded and
maintains an orphanage with funds bountifully sup-
plied by his foster-parents, where homeless orphans
and wandering waifs find a good home, and where they
are fitted and adequately equipped to take their place
and do successful warfare in the battle of life.

Years had come and gone and now the master and
mistress of Femclifle were nearing the evening of life.
Taking their accustomed sleigh-ride one delightful
winter's day, the eighteenth anniversary of the distri-
bution of the gifts by the young ladies, the spirited
horses took fright and dashed madly away. They
were soon beyond the control of the coachman, and
suddenly turning a comer in their wild flight, the
sleigh was overturned and the occupants thrown vio-
lently against the curb-stone and dragged some dis-
tance before becoming released from the robes and
sleigh.

Willing hands came quickly to their rescue and ten-
deriy carried their seemingly lifeless forms into the
nearest house. Ambuknces were summoned and a
hasty run was made to the hospital, which was reached
before they regained consciousness. Being among the
most distinguished families and weU known they were

Ferncliffe.

225

recognized and everything possible was done to res^ '^"'i
consciousness and relieve their Bufferings.

After receiving medical and surgical treatm it -hey
were placed in private apartments, their won jd;i and
physical condition not permitting their removal ii>
their home.

The Sisters of Mercy were in attendance at the hos-
pital and where tlie case was most urgent and their
services most needed, there they were unremitting in
their kindly ministrations. I5eing summoned to the
bedside of the latest arrivals, where the victims lay
hovering between life and death, we leave the reader
to imagine the meeting between the daughter and lier
unconscious father whom she had not seen before for
so many years.

She was so nearly overcome, and her embarrassment
was so apparent, that she was removed from his pres-
ence when she communicated her discovery to the
physicians and her companions. She was informed
that her mother was in an adjoining room, and although
not so severely injured as was her father, she was
positively refused admission to her presence lest the
excitement of the meeting should prove injurious.
The anguish of the enforced separation of ministering
daugh*^? from her suffering mother can be more easily
imagined than described.

Their injuries proved more serious tlian at first sup-
posed, and, being somewhat advanced in years, their
recovery was very slow. The sisters were in constant
attendance, but none was more untiring and devoted
than the hitherto much-despised one — the disowned
a.id outcast one of their own ilesh and blood.

Sucii unselfish, kindly ministrations appealed more

226 GaTHBBBD WAITLKTa

Btrongly to them than sennons or volumes of learned
disquisition and argument. Mountains of prejudice
and hate were removed during their convalescence,
and admiration and love took their place.

The first caU that they made after returning to Fem-
cMe from the hospital was at the convent, where they
found their daughter contented and happy, doing the
work of Him who said, " Inasmuch as you have done it
unto one of the least of these you have done it unto

Me." , , L

Soon after, when duly instructed, they had the great
happiness to be received into the Church on the anni-
versary of their daughter's reception into the Order
of Mercy, and their kst days were flUed with that
peace and happiness which surpasseth understanding
and which are known in their fullness only by those of
the household of the true faith.

As an act of thanksgiving and reparation they be-
queathed their home and extensive grounds for a site
for a convent and an orphans' home and an industrial
school and liberally endowed aU. The convent they
desired should be known as St. Francis' Convent of
Mercy to commemorate the name of their daughter.

The extensive and weU-equipped orphans' home and
industrial school are happily fulflUing the mission
planned for them— providing a good home for or-
phans, giving them a Christian education, teaching
them a useful trade, and so saving unnumbered thou-
sands to God and country.

The home and school justly bear the name of him
who, actuated by highest Christian charity and philan-
thropy, so munificently endowed them, and thus they
will transmit to coming generations the story of Fern-

Fekncliffe.

227

cliflfe mill the ii;i!ii(' of its foimilcr timl subsequent
owners.

An<l so wpi'o iinsweivd tlie prayers of the orphan and
his fair proti'j;e to Saint Anthony, tlirough whose
intercession doubtless a home was not only found for
them but also for countless others, ^.liiimis of Saint
Anthony'f! Slnhtc, Wiiirt:st<;r, Mass., June, 1902.

A PILGRIMAdE TO UUE F.AUY OF LOUEDES
AT XAZARETII IX LEICESTER.

THE seasons come and f!;o, and Time is ever beside
the death-bed of the past and at the birth of the
present. In the natural order bleak and barren
winter gives way to the new awakening and seed time
of Spring with bud and blossom and springing blade
— when the landscape is adorned with a wealth of
flowers and fragrance — that touching token of the
Creator's bounty —

"for the flower
Is a pure growth of heavenly love, a thing
Unblamed bv Him who made it."

Seed-time hastens on and mid-smnmer, the summit
of the year, crowns the work of the husbandman with
richest fruitage.

As tlie supernatural includes the natural, as the
greater includes the lesser, it requires no deep erudi-
tion to discover the striking analogy which exists

228

Gathered Waiflets.

between them. The dark and unproductive ante-
Christian winter of might and liate, when was exacted
"an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," gave way
before the fructifying wai-mth — ■ :unshine of the
Redeemer, an.l make fruitful the sterile sod of he
passions and wickedness of men, an.l who. His earthly
mission ended, ascended to the throne of His Father
in the fullness of tl e harvest. , . ,. „

The clm-ch which He foun.led, and with which He
remains to guide ami direct, w!-ly sets apart stated
times and seasons throughout tlie year to commemo-
rate the transcendant work of man's redemption and
to stimulate anew his gratitude and praise.

The Catholic church, unlike the sects, exalts and
honors the heroes and heroines whom God exalts and
honors - those holy ones who found favor in His sight
and were the chosen instruments of His will. To none
is greater dignitv an.l honor accorded than to her who
was found worthv to be salute.l by the heavenly mes-
senger with "Hail! full of grace," and who was so
closely linkcl with her Divine Son in the work of His
earthlv mission.

Bone of her bone -flesh of her flesh - mother and
son -mother an.l her Creator -mother and her God
_ so associated on earth it is fitting to share the pious
belief, which has come down to us from the earliest
ages of Christianity, that they are again united in the
highest heavens. The union of her body after death
with h( r soul in heaven is known to those of the house-
hold of faith as the Assumption.

This feast is celebrated on August 15th -the sum-
mit of the fruitage season in the natural order - and it
may very properly be called the summit and oomple-

A PlUJHIMAGE TO OlR LaDY OF LoLUDES. 2"J9

tion of tlio work oF Rwlemption of iiiarikiml in the
supernatural order.

From the earliest days of Christianity, particularly
(luring the ages of faith, the feast of the Assumption
was celebrated with all the grandeur and ceremonial of
the Roman ritual, a beautiful custom which still sur-
vives in Catholic countries. But in this new country,
as it were of yestenlay, wliere the church has encoun-
tered so many obstacles, and where the spirit of com-
mercialism dominates, tbis ami other feasts of the
church have beej shorn of much of their splendor,
significance and value.

For the tiist time in the history of this city, the last
anniversaiy of the feast, August 10, 1902, was cele-
brated by a pilgrimage to the Nazareth Convent of
Mercy in the adjoining town of Leicester, where the
(lay was fittingly if not as gloriously spent as in more
favored places.

From early morning until 9 o'clock, the hour fi.\ed
for assembling, pilgrims gathered from all parts of
the city and surrounding country at tlie junction of
Manville and Main streets near St. Joseph's church in
Leicester, when careful estimates placed their number
at three thousand. They came from every walk and
condition in life, old and young, male and female,
teacher and pupil, emiiloyer and workman, cultivated
and unlettered — anil all thoughtful and earnest.

The day was most projjitious, a balmy sun and a
cloudless sky contributing to the success of the pil-
grimage and pi asures of the pilgrims. The route of
tiie jM'ocession was through Mauville street to the
Home, thence over newly mown grass-land to the
shrine in the grotto.

230 Gathered Waiflets.

Banners, bannerettes, wreaths of laurel, and other
appropriate decorations along the route, added to the
pieturesqueness and effectiveness of the scene.

The pilgrimage was duly formed under the super-
^-ision and management of men of experience of Saint
Paul's parish, rnd at 9:15 o'clock it moved m the fol-
lowing order : , . , i f„„™

Cross bearer, clergy from several panohes and from
the College of the Holy Cross, delegates from the
Sisters of Mercy, Sisters of Providence, the Eosary
Soeietv. 5acre.l Heart Sodality, Cldldren of Mary,
fifteen giris dressed to represent the fifteen mysteries
of the he- rosary, nine giris to represent the nine
choirs of angels, all of St. Paul's parish, followed by
the unattached pilgrims in military file.

When the pilgrimage started for its destination,
Ivev. WiUian. 11. (Joggin, pastor of St. Paul's church,
began the recitation of tiie rosaiy, that wonderful epi-
tome of t)ie birth, life, death, resurrection and ascen-
sion of the God-man, from the Annunciation to the
Ascension -His endre life and life-work upon earth
_ recalling and meditating upon its joys, its sorrows,

and its glories. ,i i „„

The volume of devotional response which welled up
and was poured forth upon the morning air from three
thousand voices seemed like the melody of a powerful
or-au in a vast cathedral, or as the swelling notes of
the oncoming sea as the billowy waves surge and die
away.

"And to hear the grateful song
Of the gentle pilgrim throng,—
The old angelic greeting given
To the \irgin Queen of Heaven,

A FiLGRIltAOE TO Ol <t LaDY OF Loi'RDES. 231

wag Boul-stirring and uplifting, and it made a lasting
impression upon all whose good fortune it was to par-
ticipate in the exercises.

Arrived at the grotto, a beautiful sight greeted the
vision. Here Nature in her play of power has fash-
ioned such a dell as painters dream of, and as poets
and romancists teU us are fitting abodes for the shrines
of the just — the holy ones of God. Nature's handicraft
has been supplemented and beautified by human aid,
and now, embowered in trees and overgrown with ivy,
a rustic stone arch shelters the statue of our Lady of
Lourdes, with Bemadette kneeling before her, and
feathered songsters carol in the overhanging branches
and wild flowers adorn the landscape at her feet

"This statue and niche are the gift of one who has
implicit confidence in our Lady's powerful interces-
sion," but who conceals his name, only allowing the
gift to be known by the above words, which are in-
scribed on a brass plate at our Lady's feet.

The altar was erected directly in front of the niche,
and it was embowered in the dense foliage and massive
branches of overhanging trees — and cut flowers, potted
plants, and flickering tapers gave an added charm to
the grandeur and solemnity of the scene.

Here the holy sacrifice of the Mass was offered, the
clean oblation to the Most High, and this together
with the reception of the Blessed Sacrament by a num-
ber of communicants, and the recollection and devotion
of the thousands of worshipping pilgrims, was most
impressive and edifying.

The Mass was celebrated by Rev. Jeremiah J. Pren-
dergast, S. J., of the College of the Holy Cross, assisted
by Rev. WiUiam IL Goggin, Rector of St. Paul's

I. 'if

232 Gathered Waiflets.

church, and Rev. John F. Redican, Rector of St
Joseph's church, and John Cooney and Joseph Sweeney
of the latter church were the Acolytes.

Rev Bernard S. Conaty, Rector of the church of the
Sacred Heart, preached a touching sermon, taking as
his dominant thought the glories of Mary, crowned by
her Assumption, and the lesson of the pilgrimage and

l^fl 10VS

The music of the Mass was rendered by the choir of
St Paul's church under the direction of Mr. Daniel
Downey, assisted by Mr. Joseph Rogers of Rochdale,
upon the violin. In addition to the music of the Mass
"Ave Maria" was sung at the oflertory by Mrs. Daniel
Downey and Mrs. Mary E. O'Hara; "On This Day. O
Beautiful Mother" and "Mother Dear, O Pray For
Me" by the full choir, with organ and violin accom-
paniment by Mr. E. F. Howe, organist of St Pauls
church, and Mr. Rogers; and at the communion
"L' Adagio" was rendered by Mr. Rogers on the vio-
lin, accompanied by Mr. Howe upon the organ.

Father Prendergast officiated at the solemn bene-
diction of the Blessed Sacrament, which followed the
celebration of the Mass, when "O Salutaris" was sung
by Mrs. Rupert H. Murray, and the "Tantum Ergo
bv the fuU choir, accompanied by organ and violin,
with Mrs. O'Hara as soloist. After the benediction
the procession was again formed and with befitting
solemnity the Blessed Sacrament was borne under a
rich canopy to the chapel in the Home and deposited
in the tabernacle, the choir singing Holy God, We
Praise Thy Name." .

Thus came to a close the formal devotional exercises
of the pilgrimage, but many who came supplied with a

A PlLORIKAOK TO OoR LaDT OF LoDRDBS. 2S3

basket Innch spent the balance of the day abont the
spacions gronnds in social reunion and qniet pleasare —
in renewed visits to the shrine and chapel — woU con-
tent with the day so happily and profitably spent, and
rejoicing that it was their good fortune to pprtinipate
in and share the blessings of the first pilgrimage to
Our Lady of Lourdes at Nazareth. — Annalt of Saint
Anthony's Shrine, June, 1903.

THE PRINTED WORD.

44 y^ O TEACH." No command of the God-man

\j is more lucid or emphatia He, tht eternal
Wisdom clothed in human form, came
down to earth to teach lessons of profoundest wisdom.
He sanctified to this use all the then known means for
imparting information that would increase knowledge
and lead up to highest wisdom.

He taught by miracles, by example, by precept, by
parables, by deeds. When about to return to His
throne in the highest heavens, He, in the plentitude
of his divinity and power, elevated His apostles and
their successors to the greatest dignity upon earth,
and clothed them with the infallibility of the God-
head: — "The Father and I are one"— "All power is
given Me" — "As the Father hath sent Me I also send

984

Gathkrkd Waiflbts.

yo„-._"Go teach whatsoever I have commanded yon;
and behold I am with you aU days even to the con-
summation of the world."

No limitations here as to the plentitude of power,
no restrictions as to time or place or the means to be
employed to fulflU the Divine command.

During the years of the God-man on eartli, and for
centuries thereafter, the oral was practically the only
metho<l, asi.le from miracles, for propaRating Ills gos-
pel and teachings; but in the fullness of time, and in
obedience to tlie command Hod gave to man at the
time of his creation to go forth into tlie world and
subdue it, as recorded in the first chapter if (J. aesis,
the printing press was bom— that mighty engine of
education and civili/Jition— that subtle influence that
transmutes and disseminates to the ends of the earth-
that irresistible power tiiat has uprooted and over-
thrown kingdoms and dynasties— that angel of good
or demon of evil. .

While the perpetuity of God's kingdom on earth is
assured by God himself, He desires— nay commands-
the cooperation of human agencies to aid in its e.xten-
gion and transmission to coming ages, and for the
faithful performance of this, as of other commands.
He will exact a strict accounting.

The printing press and the printed word as we now
have them, were unknown in the time of the Master,
and therefore not sanctified by His express endorse-
ment and use, but who shall say that the printed word
of a later time is not equally sanctioned with the oral
of an earlier age 2 and that both are not equaUy blessed
and made effectual to regenerate, to uplift, to extend
and transmit the blessings of Christianity and civiliza-

TlIK I'ldNTKII W'llllll.

tioii tliniiiKliiiul till' liiKliwiiys iiii>l liyways dI' life, to
the most ('rilij,'lilciii'il lis wfll as li> nations iHiricil in
IIm' il.-iikni'ss III' iiloliitry ami patfaiii""' ?

Without iloinK violence to any it may ln' saiil that
all inankiiiii are iliviileil into iwo classes — those of the
honsehiihl of the faith ami those withont - yet all are
the chilili'en of a loininon H'atlier, ami all ale I'leated
for the same eternal ile-tiny.

Those within the foM hear the voice of the Shep
heril, hilt who hriiiKs the iflail tiilin^s ami lireaks lln'
lireail of life to those without .' And yet the Shepher.l
of souls commamleil the seekini; out ami recovi'ry of
the strayiuij ami lost sheep, ami told of the Joy in
heaven over the sinner who repents. May we not then
with Jiropriefy say that a wise and merciful flod has
ordained and hh'ssed hoth the oral and written word -
the one to (|iiickeii the faith and arouse the zeal of

those within the fold who hi'iir the voii f the Shep

herd, and the other that Roes Into the .lesert |ih s of

life to hriiif;' the knowledge of fiod and the hlessiufrs
of Mis (Jospe! to untold millions of errin4r and stray
ins ones who would never seek either within the sheep
fold;

It is painfully e\ ideiit that the dates of Hell - - the

power>

if darkne

ire fullv aw

aketoti

leir opporfu

nity, and oh! with what sad and teriilile i-esuK^! \,
the hands of the enemy the iirintim;- jiress is m.ide to
continue unceasiui;, unrelentiiii; warfare upon the liijht
set upon *he nionatain — the sheeii-fohl of Christ — and
too often, alas! too often has he succeeded ill diiiiiuiiis;-

the lifrlit, ill niakinf? serious inroails :nto tl

le slice)

fold

ami working' terrilile liiivoc therein - - in iiiakiim' liroad
the (lathway that leads to destruction and e\crla-1im;

]9 OATlIF.Br.nWMKl.ITS, ...... jj,

.,,tttli-wl,il.. I.lii..«it'« tl'- l"'«»" ^^"•''' '""" ''"'■'""'

"'"''go.! in th.. fl..sli f..ivt..M tl,.. ov.Ms.,wiiiK ..f tli.v
wheat flel.l with oockh. whih' th.. s-ivmits .h-|. . ..f tho
„Ltoac.h..rsan.lf..l.M.-nH,..is.l,at.h..at..r.h
would brinK forth, of th.ir ahility an. s„l,th.t:.= h

w„ soarch th.. s..ri,..iin.s in vain .„ Mn,l «h.. v . .
com,iion.l...l tho sh,thrul. n..«h...ttul s..,vants 1... I.Mn ,

ash..,. "»'' i"'""i»i"« ""• ^"^^'"« ':',": '"Tl ,

h..ir iM.liff..n.n.-.. in His s.-vi.... whioh iiinish... an
Ly opiMiiiiK for th- onshm«h, of th.. la ... tw.ch..rs
nnd^alsc piva..l,..is ..f tl,.. ..n..iny wi.i. wh.,in h.. m

,,„.,.. toh.iati..n ..1- tn...... Uir.l on th.. aim... a, M

L goo.1 fiRht, Ha...s.. an.l us,- th.. most . ,.c n,
weapons. l>.M>..tw..«iy in w,.l!,h.ini:,th..s,..,n,l.h..l,K..

are the comman.ls of Ilin, wh,- ....nnnan.ls.

With th.. printing pn'ss «l,at hnn.an a«,.n..y ,s
compnr,.hh. to ..ffici,.nc.y an,l po« .r .' An, what ,n..ans
have tho eockle sow..rs - th.. p..«v.s ot ,h.ikn..ss-
made nne of with «.-at..r sn..,.,.ss t,. p,.ison an.l .h -
Ttrov! A...1 will His sh-thfal s,.vvants sl....p ,.n an.
vield up with.nit contest ..r r..n,..nst ran.... this nn,'h>

'„p„e ..f unm..asur...l P,.w,.v t,. tl n,.,ay t,. inak..

successful warfar.. up.,n th.. ,lo,.tiin- ot th.. K...l....n,...

(vf inaukin.i; „..,„i.

The print...l w.-nl! What a l-t'-'.v '"«■"■
Wh«tatir..l..ssan.l.h.atUl,.ss,„i-^,onai-y! \\at,.,l.M
war.l, ever onwanl. its M,issi„n. aalik.. tl,.. ntt..r..,l w.o.l.

never halts, n..v..r ..n.ls!

Th,. print...l w..r.l is th,. s„al tu.l, .pm,.,,,, an.

„,,U,ion sways the worhl. .M, ! hnt tl„. ..are a,.. ■

in the sowia^ that th,. l,ai'v,.st Iw th.. palla.lnna .,1
lleav.'ii!

'rilK I'lllSIKII WiMlh.

Till' piiliti'il Wdi'.l lilrsscil fnnii oil liitfli i^ II wliitr
wiiiK''<l rviiintfl <if liitlil tliiit illiimini's tlio (mtliwav o(
till' iTi-iiiit iiiic- >tr,iii(lcil in till' cliiikMiiiic I'i'iM III' iuiiM
nilll'c mill >ill, IIIkI «llhli's tlli'lll U< llir Slltrs of till' Dili'

Ki-ciit Christ iinliiiiii'.l s| p fiilil, nil aiinsti)lii' iiii>

sioimry tliiit \i-,\w^ tin' iiiin'ly iiml iiiin' ^iit'cly within
the fohl Miul -ci'ks out iiinl ii'i'ovcrs the ln^t (ir slniyiii^'
(iiw til rcliirii him In li'r- triii' IhTitii^'i' with (lir One.
--li(»phi*r<i.

'I'lir |iiiiili'il wuiil ill tile -infill ways nf life; - the-
ininli'il word t'nlliiifj iitluvaii IIm' |iatli of tlii' hiinli'iicl
simii'i- - till' one who wonhl not scrk the >ilffly of tlii'
sliccp fohl, the iiislruflioiis anil cvhoitations of tlio
shi'pliiTil. nor till' socii'ty of tin' viKliti'oiis — pricks tlii'
I'olisrii'iici- ami hfroini- tin' litth' li'avi'ii that li'iivi'iii'lh
till' whoh'!

IJiit siinnhl the I'itaih'l of thi' hi'art ri'fnsc ailinis
slon to thi' lirsf oiislaiifrht of tlio priiiti'.l wonl that
iiiav si'i'k aihnission, il- niiillipliciition ami mntiiiiii'il
assault will, in tho I'l-oviili'in'o of lioil, ovi'Itohh' I hi'
most oli-tinati' ii'sistani'i', will lii-oak ilown tin' stronj;
I'st harrici-s I'vcn as tlii' sri'iith- -/ophyrs uniti' to forin
tho toniailo that Ini'aks ilowii ami -wi'i'ps I'ViTythiiii;'
lii'foi'i' it — .'Vi'!i as till' tiny ih'w-.lrop> that irliston in
till' inoniiiiK sun niiito to niakr tin' niiu'lity ooran that

till' poiiniioroi' nf tin' woihl upon it- hi

iinil

vhicli is irri'sistihli' in its niijrlit - I'vi'ii as tho L'l'iitly

falling snow

fhiki's that, nniti'il, form tlii' miirlity avi

laiii'hi' that sworps ilown thi' inoiintaiii siilr ami I'mslii's
into nothinirni'ss tlio miifhtii'st works of iiii'ii - - I'vi'ii a-
thi' Ki-ains of -anil inliltrato tin' ori'vici's nf iniirhty

inoiintiiins ami I'Vi'iitiially wriMii-h tln'in asnmlrr a- if

niailt' of ciH'kh' shells.

238

OATHEKF.n WaIII.KTS

The church— Ood'B church— the cliurcli ()r«ani/.cMl
and commissioned by the Kternal Son of the Eternal
Father at the Last Supper to teach, lius had many
sturdy heroes and heroines who successfully used all
available means to meet and overthrow tlie eriors and
wickedness of their times — individuals, yea, giants of
holiness to combat and overthrow tlie afjeiits of tin-
powers of darkness and their works, tlie Heresiarehs
and Heresies of the a^es of tin' past — saint.'il men
and women — vessels of election to smite the evd-
doers and <lestroy their pernicious woiks and doc-
trines— men and women of intellect, of will, i>f zeal,
and fire to do the work of the Master, and win His
"Well done, good and faithful servant," and the enco-
miums and veneraticm of their deseenihuits and suc-
cessors.

At no time in the history of the worhl have f,'icatcr
efforts been put forth than the present to sow the
cookie of untruth, to besmirch the church of the liviuf!:
God, to weaken faith and emanciiiate mankind from
the "Thus saith the Lord," to malifjn ami hclittle
His servants, to misrepresent His doctrines and teach-
ings, to weaken and overthrow faith, ami to propagate
indifference, asnosticism ami other i-rmrs — and tlw
printed word is the most powerful ami .■iTectnid weaiion
in the arsenal of the enemy.

Must it he always tlius.' .\lnst this mi-lity a^ent
for good be forever ))rostituted to the had :' Must i\\v
work of the Evil One be not d.'stroyed ; .\nd hy whom
if not by the Chihiren of Lii-'ht ;' Will nol tlio-e
divinely commissioned to teach come tn the re-< in' ami
give victorious battle f Or nmst we wail until Ljreater
mischief is wnmglit, .srreater .Icva-lation -prcad

The Printed Word.

239

thronghont the world, a greater harvest of souls gath-
ered to an eternity of misery with the damned ?

Speed the day when the printed word will serve
the right rather than the wrong, will build up and
strengthen rather than weaken and destroy. Speed the
day when the printed word will, like the gentle zephyrs,
unite in a tornado of blessings and grace that will uproot
and overthrow wickedness and error, like the gently
falling snow-flakes gather in volume and intensity to
form an avalanche to crush and overthrow the Enemy
of souls, like the glistening dew drops form a mighty
ocean to carry the message of the gospel to the fur-
thermost ends of the earth with irresistible might,
like the grains of sand unite and wrest asunder the
mighty mountains of error for the greater honor and
glory of God and the salvation of souls.

The harvest is ripe. The means is at hand. When
will it be sanctifled to the highest and holiest use ?
When will the " other sheep I have that are not of this
fold, them also must I bring" of the Master be fully
realized ?

When will His disciples use the Apostolate of the
press with all the fiery zeal and success that character-
ized the early Christians i Or must we wait the com-
ing of another hero to sanctify this means to holier
ends, and add another name to the Calendar of Saints }
— Annals of Saint Anthony's Shrine, Worcester, Mass.,
June, 1905.

' ': til

PILGRIMAGES.

PILGRIMAGES date back to the earliest ages. In
the beginning they were made to some spot or
place memorable in the history of a nation or
people-to commemorate some great achievement or
to honor the hero or heroes by whose instrumentality
the deed was wrought, to stimulate inspiration, to
arouse enthusiasm, and to consecrate anew the devo-
tion and loyalty of the participants.

Christianity in this, as in many other things, did
not condemn or forbid this ancient practice but
adapted it to more worthy ends and higher ideals
and made it of service to Christianity. It was but
natural for the Apostles, Disciples and followers of
the crucified Lord to meet at stated times and places
in and about Jerusalem to commemorate important
events in the life of the Master, and in a body visit
the places sanctified and made memorable by His
presence and miracles, to find comfort and consolation
in the society of each other, added strength by com-
bined prayer, to thus publicly avow their faith and loy-
alty, and to consecrate themselves anew to the spread
of His gospel These gatherings and movements from
place to place were the first Christian pilgrimages.

The fervor of the early Christians knew no bounds,
and with the spread of Christianity pilgrimages were
maintained to Jerusalem from distant parts. In those
farK)ff days all civilized nations vied with each other
in promoting the growth and spread of Christianity by

PiLORtMAQEa

241

enconraging pilgrimages, and none of these was more
in evidence in this good work than Saxon England
down to and and even beyond the Middle Ages.

During the early centuries of Christianity the Pil-
grims wore a peculiar garb with hood and cape, a low
crowned hat, a staff in hand, scrip and water bottle, —
and many wore a special badge to differentiate them
from others.

With the spread of Christianity to more distant parts
of the world pilg. images could not be made to Jerusa-
lem without great inconvenience and danger. Pil-
grimages were singularly blessed in that they rendered
valuable aid in the building up and spread of Chris-
tianity, and, during the third century, in order to ben-
efit the faithful and increase their usefulness, instead
of going to Jerusalem as formerly, pilgrimages were
made to the tombs of Martyrs and Confessors —
God's chosen heroes — nearer home where indulgen-
ces and other spiritual advantages might be ob-
tained. This practice rapidly e.xtended and made
those strong in the faith stronger, the weak strong, the
indifferent earnest — and as results large harvests of
souls. The zeal of the early Christians knew no
bounds, and their ardor for their religion made its
public avowal by means of pilgrimages so popular,
general and dominant that the restraining hands of the
Fathers of the Church — Saint Chrysostom, Saint Au-
gustine, Saint Gregory, and others, were necessary to
limit them and keep them within proper bounds.

The rebellion of the intellect against God — the " I
will not serve" of the world — has done much to curtail
and modify many of the early and helpful practices of
the Church — pilgrimages among their number. Where

iim.

^43

Gathmed Waiflits.

:( ?!!'

the dollar reigns the ideal langnisheg. Where mam-
mon is worshipped the things of God are no longer
rendered nnto him as openly or so generally or gener-
ously as in the days of the pilgrimages of the past

Who with proper sentiments welling up within him
can fail to be benefitted and uplifted, strengthened and
made better, by a visit to the stable of the Nativity, to
Calvary, to the Holy Sepulchre, to the tombs of Mar-
tyrs, Confessors and Saints?— and who would not be
touched and thrilled by the sight, fervor and devotion
of many associates and companic u? upon a similar mis-
sion?

Our chureh in this country is shorn of many of its
beautiful and edifying practices, but let us indulge the
hope that the Annual Pilgrimage to the House of
Nazareth in Leicester may continually grow in volume
and K .-vor to rival the best in the olden time, and that
every participating Pilgrim may receive great spirit-
ual benefit and other blessings, and live long to give
thanks that an opportunity has been given to make
a pilgrimage in this new land of the Western world. —
Annals of Saint Anthony's Shrine, June, 1908.

* 15

WHEAT AND COCKLE.

FROM the time when the Omnipotent Jehovah
made man and gave him dominion over all cre-
ated things, the world has been a field in which
the wheat — the right, good and prai^io worthy — has been
oversown with cockle — the wrong, base and vicious.
The garden of Eden where man's presence was first
known and felt on earth, the sacred spot where the Cre-
ator deigned to commune and converse with the crea-
ture, was no exception. There the sower of cockle
came, and the fair field of Eden, Paradise, was befouled
and defiled.

The sad story of Cain and Abel confirms and accen-
tuates the persistence and success of the debasing and
degrading cockle sower. The fair field of wheat in
Noah'i. time had been well nigh overrun and blotted
out. The cockle had so multiplied and become so in-
tolerant and offensive that the Creator — the great God
of might, wisdom and love — said : " I will destroy
man, whom I have created, from the face of the earth,
from man even to beasts, from the creeping things
even to the fowls of the air, for it repenteth me that
I have made them." — Genesis vi. 7.

To vindicate His sovereignity and power He sent the
flood of Noah, which destroyed nearly all created things
— the work of His love. And yet these severe and
drastic dispensations and measures of the olden time
have not wholly destroyed the cockle sowers nor saved
mankind from the results of their pernicious and per-

I -^

'fp (

244 Gathered Waiflets.

«.teut endeavors. Their bl-''^"'^^"'^; '^^Jj
discerned throughout aU history sacred »»'!?'»'«!«'
further justifying and giving "dded emphas:s to he
words o Solomon : "What is it that hath been 1 the
Tm* thing that shaU be. What is it that hath been
IneJ the' same that shall be done."-Eccles,astes

*■ it the dawn of the New Dispensation when the
Redeemer was bom in Bethlehem, the skughter of
^e Innocents was sad and painful evidence of the
Burvival and success of the cockle sower-the old-time

•" m'yt'hfinsation of a God of wisdom and
love the evil machinations of the cockle sower are per-
mitted we may never fuUy know °o' "''derstand but
That it will be until the end is clearly evident from
the teaching and command of the Master, when He
without explanation, forbade His disciples to pluck
Ip and destroy the cockle, saying; "^et .^"^^^^f ^^
until the time of the harvest: and m the time of the
harvest I will say to the reapers: Gather up flrs
ATcockle, and bind it into bundles to burn; but
gather the wheat into my barn."-Mathew xiu. 30
%at cockle sowers-evil doers-willalwaysabound

and ply their nefarious business has added emphasis
and ^igniflcance by His teaching upon mother occasion
when he said: "It is impossible that B<=-dals shall
lot come; but woe to him through whom they come.

"in o'^fown'day'the work of the cockle Bo-e; i«J"
prominent and painful evidence throughout he field
^f the whole world. Obedient to the teachmg and
commands of the Redeemer of mankind, the church

Wheat and Cocklb.

245

which He established and with which He abides has
made unceasing and saccessfal warfare apon the sow-
ers of cockle. Heavenly giants, valiant warriors,
heroic souls — God's heroes all — have not failed to
give battle and with their hearts' blood to win many a
victory for truth and right — have protected God's fair
wheat field from the sowers of repulsive and injurious
cockle.

Their names are legion and they are emblazoned
upon the records of the recording Angel and enshrined
in the hearts of the loving and grateful posterity who
are now waging the same wars in the years of the
world of to-day in which they so successfully strove,
and now is theirs the well earned reward of "Well
done, goo'l and faithful servant Enter thou into the
joys of the Lord."

In this day of ours unnumbered cockle sowers are
conducting an active campaign throughout the world.
The intense life of the 20th century, the throb and
thrill and energy of existence, the leviathans of the
deep, the smoke belching forth from innumerable
chimneys that pierce the clouds, herculean undertak-
ings iu the marts of business, the hum and rumble of
tireless machinery, and the frenzy and whirl of the
financial world, all bear testimony to the unprece-
dented worldliness of the present time^to the graft
and grab of the age.

Can any combination of circumstances combine to
ofler greater opportunity to the sowers of cockle ?

If the outlook over the vast field of the world re-
veals a super-abundance of cockle and inducement for
the nefarious work of cockle sowers, the sowers of wheat
must not be cast down nor become disheartened. They

[ IS^

!* I

346

Gatbibbd Waiflbts.

are not to expect biUow. of God's goodness that wiU
overwhelm and overthrow at once, as did the Red Sea;
they are not to expect an earthquake that wiU utterly
destroy the cockle; they are not to expect a ram that
will fall upon the just and not upon the unjust

All betterment at first comes, under God, thi )Ugh
individual initiativa There is no hurry, no frenzy,
with that Power outside ourselves which is all Power-
ful It is but for the individual to do quietly in his
or her own smaU way the best that is in him or her,
leaving the result to the Master, who uttered the para-
ble of the mustard seed and promised reward to the
giver of a cup of cold water in His name.

"In union there is strength," and we may add, when
in a good cause, helpfulness and edification. In God's
good time these individual atoms of goodness will
unite, as do the glistening drops of dew upon the
mountain top, into rivulets and mighty rivers, to vivify
and rejuvenate all below— to check the work of the sow-
ers of cockle and to purify the spiritual atmosphere of
the world.

Is not the annual pilgrimage to the Shnne of Naza-
reth in Leicester one of the visible manifestations of
such growing union in the good cause ? And is it not
an expression of faith, hope, and desire on the part of
the growing numbers who take part therein to defeat
or limit the work of the soweis of cockle ar 1 to give
greater honor and glory to God and His Immaculate
Mother h- Annals of Saint Anthony' i Shrine, Worctsttr,
Mass., June, 1909.

I I

RICHES IN POVERTY.

WHEN the words Riches and Poverty are used
in a worldly sense, the way in which they
are generally used, they are antithetical and
mutually destructive ; but in a higher sense, the sense
in which they are now used, and in which it is highest
wisdom to use them, they are in sweetest accord, reas-
suring and comforting. Riches, as too generally under-
stood, is material wealth, wordly wealth — money, prop-
erty, human attainment for human ends — will-o'-the-
wisps that ever attract and fascinate only to deceive
and disappoint.

The frenzy for accumulating money and what it
represents, the fierce and unholy strife to attain to a
pedestal in the limelight of public life or social dis-
tinction, the unremitting toil of the student and savant
who bum the midnight oil to attract the attention and
command, if possible, the admiration of their feUow
men, now so generally dominant throughout the world —
to the indifference and neglect of the higher, nobler and
more enduring — have blinded the ey«s of their devotees
and blunted the finer sensibilities to the true significa-
tion, appreciation and importance of the higher and
better meaning of the words riches and poverty.

Men in every worldly walk of life, men whom the
world blindly calls great— from the men who have
attained to the topmost round in the ladder of things
worldly, down to the feeble imitators in the humbler
walks of life — all bum incense before the shrine of

; :-'f^

* ■

348

Oathirid Waiflkts.

worldly wealth and attainment and blindly pnrene the
deceptive and misleading goddess during aU the days
of their earthly pilgrimage; and they measure their
achievements by their financial success and material
gain, only to find that all inexorably end and become
as ashes to them after a few short years of earthly ex-
istence.

Myriads of such have burdened themselves with the
anxieties and cares of the world, have sacrificed their
lives to selfish ends and the accumulation of worldly
wealth or distinction, have lived their allotted time —
a merest lightning flash as compared with the years of
eternity— and left everything.everything behind — even
the names of the vast majority of them are accorded
no place in the calendar of the names of those who
once lived upon the earth.

They lived for the world and now the world forgets
or spurns them ; they toiled for fame but now their
names and deeds are buried with them ; and who shall
say that the Recording Angel has written their names
in the Book of Life 2 The sad fate of such misguided
ones is fittingly and forcefully told in the words of
the poet:

" the loudest blast

That ever filled Renown's obstreperous trump

Fades in the lapse of ages,"

and

"they sleep, and never more
Their names shall strike upon the ear of man."
It requires no silver-tongued homilist to proclaim nor
learned exegetist to persuade that true riches abide
only with wisdom— the wisdom that chooseth the bet-
ter part and heeds the teaching of the Master, the wis-

RiOHIS IN PoVBBTY.

24!)

dom that oppoaes the maxiniB of the world and aparns
its allDrementa, the wisdom that weighs every act and
ever reminds those in the world that " man hath not
here his abiding place."

This highest wisdom— this prif'eless wealth, the
wealth that endures forever — now, as in the days when
the Redeemer was upon the earth in human form to
bestow it as light, guidance and strength to all who
would receive it, abounds more generally among the
meek and humble, the lowly and obscure — the worldly
poor, unknown and unappreciated.

In saner times in the not long ago the toilers of the
world were less infatuated than now with the things
of the world and more c-losely followed in the foot,
steps of the great Exemplar, and they trod the wine
press of their daily toil in greater humility, resigna-
tion and hopefulness and thereby conformed their
lives to highest wisdom, and in worldly poverty
laid up stores of wealth that end not with life
but which endure forever. The harvest of the hus-
bandman might fail yet he did not repine, the work
of the mechanic might not prosper yet he did not
murmur, death might steal away the bread winner of
the household yet the mother in her bereavement was
reconciled. The fatherhood of God was paramount in
every humble walk of life, and whether the day brought
sunshine or shadow, sickness or health, joy or sadness,
success or failure in a worldly sense, God so orHnined,
and to His holy name be honor, glory, and praise,
and to His will in humility, filial submission and
christian resignation.

To these and such as these, battling as soldiers faith-
fully striving to do the will of the Master, and

250 Gathehkd Waiflbtb.

natiently accepting and ^notifying thewvcaUed vicU-

their poverty the reward of pncele»» treasure that will

^^0^^:rrW r rui ■» .ind and pure of
heS^^^^ a"j called to higher «t«t.--to W.e-w-
of heavenly wisdom and diBpensen. of .mpen^hable
lalth These lowly and unknown brotherhoods and
li Soods, like their Master whom they so loyal
and devotedly strive to serve, ''"''»'"='', ,"V,~'
lod maligned, and despised by the world, but hav-
rchoTnThe better part they grow not weary n
wfu do ng, nor wiU the aUurements of the world
Toud their'wisdom or lessen their -lor to fos^'t
for their own good and to bestow U -^-^J^
tnnate and bring them within its saving iniluence
'Tn thTs twentfeth century age the desire for world y
jrlnd achievement-wealth, station, dignity, honor,
Stlelike-iBtheloadstoneoftheworld-thenches
and glory of Time after which poor misguided human-
ty ever^trives, but which too 'f - «pell fadure am.
poverty in the presence of the Lord. Of the worm.
lis, tW too often bear down and -tard; o the
Irld, worldly, they too often despoil and /«««»» °f
the w;rld, worldly, they substitute the shadow for the
substance, the perishable for the imperishable.

TYe priceless value of souls is bartered upon the
transient bargain counter of life, and too often, alas !
Jese pricelcBs treasures that are to endure through-

RiciiKH IN Poverty.

2r.i

out eternity are exchanged for the evanescent thingi
of Time.

The man of the world should have at least snfflcient
worldly wisdom and be actuated by at least worldly
sense, if not by higher motives, to take a frequent
stock account of his daily life, make honest footings
as becomes an honest man, and then rigidly scrutinize
every act and note its influence upon his daily life and
the tendency and impetus that they impart, and, after
an exhaustive and honest audit, set about with a deter
mined will to be honest with himself, honorable to the
light given him, honorable to his opportunities, and
then to turn from the alluring, deceiving and tempor-
izing and seek only after the valuable and eternal.
Then will be learned the science of right living and
the wisdom that commands an alert an<l approving
conscience in this world — the greatest treasure of
life — and wealth that neither the rust nor the moth
doth consume, treasure that the world cannot confis-
cate, treasure that its fortunate possessors will take
with them into the great hereafter, where it secures for
them the greatest of all attainments, the greatest of
all blessings— the enrollment of their names by the
Recording Angel in the Book of Life with God's
heroes, and unending bliss with the elect.— ArnialB
of St. Anthcmy's Shrine, Worcester, Maes., June, 1910.

'■!f

V: r

£ r^i

A TRUCE IN THE WARFARE OF LIFE.

" The world ia too much with ub; late and Boon,
Getting and Bpending; we lay waBte our powers :
Little we Bee in nature that is ours.

THE battle of life grows fiercer and fiercer; the
fever of frenzied ambition and strife is grow-
ing more and more acute and rapidly extend-
ing- the world is speedily and sadly drifting from
older and safer moorings; treading the wine press
of duty daily becomes moie exacting and exhausting.
Brave and intrepid warriors are still upon the battle-
field waging valiant and vigorous combat for (rod the
home and country; waging uncompromiBing warfare
against the "I will not believe" and the I will not
serve" of the world and the offspring thereof— mon-
ism, pragmatism, agnosticism, infirm philosophies—
the loss of probity and honor in aU the walks of bfe,
the great crime against the sanctity of the home, the
stifling of conscience, the personal irresponsibility of
the individual, the exaltation of the erratic enact-
ments of men above the eternal laws of God-all these
and many others that may well be grouped together
and labelled Modernism.

" But thou, O man of God, fly these things : and pur-
sue piety, faith, charity, justice, meekness."-I Timo-
thy vi:2. The struggle is enervating and exhausting.

A Truck in the Warfare of Life.

253

hninan nature has its physical limitations, and " hope
deferred maketh the heart sick."

Join with me, fellow pilgrim and warrior, during
a truce in the conflict, and let us away to the peace-
ful, elevating and recuperative solitudes far from the
haunts and contentions of men ; there to rest and read
the hieroglyphics of the firmament, mountains, woods,
and waters, startling in their impressiveness and sug-
gestiveness, and where no discordant note is heard to
disturb the harmony ; there to meditate and contem-
plate; there to forcefully and effectually realize the
omnipotence and merciful kindness of thei'' Creator;
there to rest and recuperate exhausted energies so that
we may return with greater ardor to wage more aggres-
sive and successful warfare in the battle of life. "For
you shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace ;
the mountains and the hills shall sing praises before
you, and all the trees of the country shall clap their
hands." — Isais iv:12.

As weary pilgrims but not as deserters we withdraw
from the battlefield ; as worn and battle-scarred war-
riors we an-ive in tho, icstful solitudes where grandeur
greets the vision, enchantment chains the mind and
tranquility gives welcome ; where peace and benedic-
tion reign; where the mind is unfettered, untram-
melled and free to contemplate itself and its manifold
duties, responsibilities and opportunities.

With noon-day clearness we see a mental picture of
the Saviour of mankind and His disciples and follow-
ers turning away from the Modernists of His time and
the trials and contentions of life and we more fuUy real-
ize why He journeyed with them to a mountain apart
(Mathew v) where He spoke as man never spoke,

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254 Gathered Waifletb.

where He teaches and reaesures His hearers and aU
;ankmd, where He proclaimed the joys and consola-
tions of the Eight Beatitudes. _

But at last we have arrived in the P'---J 1;"^^°^
the solitudes far from the burning sands of tho battl^
ie d the fevered atmosphere of life's warfare and he
mil iplied pitfalls of the world; amved where the
LmensUv of space, the order of the flrmament, the
"rlf the'hea'vens,the majesty and grandeur o
towering mountains and the beauty a»d punty of
hX snowK^overed summits, the music of the npphng
brooks and the roar of catara ts. the sough.ng of the
'rnSg bree. and the crooning of trees ^n the path-
less woods all join in singing an »nend>ng Te ^um to
the great Jehovah, the Creator and Lord of aU ana
the ^1 worn warriors humbly bow down in adoration
and Draise to their Lord and Master and m sincere
humiS make renewed acts of faith, hope, chanty,

obedience and service. . ,

"Let all the earth adore hee, and sing to thee , let
itsinzapsalmtothyname."-P8alm8lxv:4.

Th! goWen sunshine lends an added beauty to the
Juntafntops and suggests the bounty of Divine bless-

r^vouchsrfed to aU who give them welcome ; their
towering summits the midday manhood in the vigor
of lifri^i.8ing in the friendship of the Maker; when
a satdTy vTolent storms of lightning and thunder,
unmil and unmoved, they typify holy souls inj
fecTually assailed by the onsUughts »* --^;-^^;
again in the twilight, like the mercy » ^^^irJ^^Ts
V. *^,^r, «nnear as mighty sentinels and bnlwarKS
;tidLg ovrLa'protLng aU during the darkn^s
ornight ; and yet ^ain as abiding monuments and

A Truce in the Warfare of Life. 2.')5

testimonies to God's presence and benediction in the
unbroken silence during the sunshine of day as well as
under the starry heavens or darkness of night ; and
yet once again when the rosy tints of morning kiss
their summits with the light of dawn and proclaim the
end of the inactivities of night they suggest and typify
the call of the Master anew to the duties and responsi-
bilities of the new-born day.

The beauty of the placid lake in the quiet places
suggests and typifies nature's great baptismal font ; in
its soothing and restful calm, the peace and happi-
ness of the shriven soul ; when lashed into fury by the
howling storm, a soul violently assailed by the powers
of darkness ; now servant now master of men like the
triumph of grace or the conquest of evil.

Gushing mountain springs speak to us of the o-it-
pouring plenitude and life-giving quality of God's
mercy, and that their refreshing and sustaining waters
like His mercy, are free to all who seek and partake.
The flowing stream, ever joyously singing its unen<l-
ing symphony, kissing every glistening pebble on its
bottom, and nourishing the wihl flowers and vegetation
upon its banks as it journeys along to renew and sus
tain the waters of the lake, eloquently and forcefully
tell us of the ever-flowing stream of the Creator's love
and grace that ever flow on to renew and sustain His
forgetful and erring children whom lie invites to
return from the error of their ways and lave in its
purifying waters.

In the towering forest trees we see typified the
human giants who have asserted themselves in the
affairs of the world for the glory of God and the uplift
of their fellow men ; in the gnarled oak, alone upon

f ■
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356 Gathbbed Waiflets.

•he mwed cliff, the fearleBS man of principle, strong

Sand coUiouB of his »f "^^-*X-Sro;
ent man of deeds who respects not Ae frailties or

oJ,l"sof men, and who imperishab y wn^es his name
hi<zh above his fellows in the annals of Time, m tne
S„P of Bpnice, flr and pine trees whose wholesome
Mslic odor as incense purifies and ^^V<^rts ^
gtcT to the surrounding atmosphere, tell us of the

human brotherhoods of men and women wjo live ,n
-* «,«m the world, and whose holy lives

groups apart from the >*oria

and the incense of whose holy deeas puniy, o

and elevate aU who come within their saving influence
„ the humble and beautiful wild lowers we see ^^■

tare of pure souls in the hidden places of We, bloom
rid giving forth perfume to t^eir Maker and

sending up the fragrance of holy lives and holy deeds

Tthelreat whiteXone on high; *>>« J-^^^rJ ^

^i f

A Tecce in the Wakkabe of Life. 257

been sweetest melody to our ears, and the majesty and
silence of the woods have given us peace and vigor.

We retnm to the warfare of life refreshed in mind,
invigorated in body, strengthened in will and with
renewed ardor and determination to do a warrior's
part in the conflict; but we shall cherish the hope
that it may be our good fortune again tc tarry in the
solitudes to recuperate exhausted energies in the sani-
toriam canopied by the heavens and to offer up adora-
tion and praise in sanctuaries not made by human
hands.— AnnaU of Saint Anthony's Shrine, Worcester,
Mass., June, 1911.

THE OLDEST BOOK IN THE WORLD.

THE Oldest Book in the world antedates the com-
ing of man upon this planet. Its pages glad-
dened the vision and hearts of our first parents
in the Garden of Eden, and comforted them in their
sorrow. The hieroglyphics in which it is written
have been read and understood by all the human fam-
ily in every age, in every clime, and of every condi-
tion in life— before as well as after the confusion of
tongues at the building of the Tower of Babel, and
the dispersion of the people to distant lands— before as
well as after the preaching of the Apostles in a single
tongue, but which was understood by their hearers
"out of every nation under heaven." — Acts 1 1 :.5. This
book has ever commanded the attention and admira-

i
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258 Gathered Waiflets.

tion of men, and awakened their appreciation and
gratitude; the ethical and uplifting eentimentg con-
tained therein have found human expression m count-
lesB gems of thought, clothed in captivating dicuon
but little below that of the heavenly inspired wnt«re,
and which have been held in highest admiration and
esteem by all lovers of exalted and elevating sentiment
and sublime expression that touches and enthrals the

heart of man.

This oldest book of the world is the Book of Nature,
and God is its author-its pages are the expression and
illustration of His power and love.

It is recorded in Genesis that on the third day of
creation God clothed the earth in a mantle of beauty
—with verdure that lent value and charm to His hand-
iwork and benevolence, with lovely shrubs and tower-
ing forest trees, with untold varieties of foliage,
fruits and iiowers, for the needs, delectation and uplift
of man whom He wiU create and give appreciation of
them and dominion over them.

It were an unworthy and too limited conception of
the wisdom and goodness of (Jod to conclude that His
works upon the third day of creation were intended
solely to serve the transient and limited physical needs
of mankind. The thoughtful, discerning and reflective
of all nations and peoples throughout the world since
the beginning of time have ever wisely recognized and
taught that man hath a dual existence-transient and
eternal-that he hath here only a temporary abiding
place, and that his true home is with his Creator in
unending bliss. Long before books, as we know
them, were written or printed by man the hiero-
glyphics of God's handiwork, read in the Book of

■J f

The Oldest Book in the World.

259

Nature by Hie creatures everywhere, gave mute but
positive testimony of His omnipotence, mercy and
man's dependence. What more consonant with the
wisdom, plan and scope of the great Jehovah — the
uncreated intelligence— and man's reason, filial respect
and obedience, than to believe that all the works of
Ilis hands had also a dual purpose — not only to min-
ister to the temporal wants of His creatures but also
as aids in the revelation of Himself to them — to in-
struct and uplift them to His knowledge and worship
by His works as well at by His words, to minister to
the wants of the soul no less than to the wants of the
body. Sacred and profane literature furnish eloquent,
emphatic and abundant concurring testimony, but for
lack of space we shall confine our evidence to a very
few brief quotations from some of the inspired writers
in the sacred scriptures :

"Generation and generation shall praise Thy works."
—Psalms clxiv:4. "Let all thy works, O Lord, praise
Thee."— Psalms cxliv:10. "The Lord is justin all His
ways and holy in aU His works."- Psalms clxiv:17.
"I remembered the days of old ; I meditated ; I medi-
tated on all Thy works ; I meditated on the works of
Thy hands."- Psalms clxii:.''). "In the works of Thy
hands I shall rejoice."— Psalms xciih. "The earth is
the Lord's and the fullness thereof."— Psalms xxxiii:!.
Who shall say that the Book of Nature is unworthy
of its author; and that His handiwork is not a never
ending wordless appeal to the observant, thoughtful
and contemplative to awaken anew, to uplift, to enno-
ble and to sanctify— that His work upon the third
day was to serve only the pui"poaes of time?

It is sad to consider and sadder still to realize how

"*^

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260 Gathekbd Waiflbts.

many there are who forget and ignore God in all Hie
works aave that of man ; forgetting and ignoring the
fact that the same omnipotence and love are as abun-
dantly and forcefully manifested outwardly in the cre-
ation of the inanimate as well as in the animate, and
that the creation of both found lodgment in Omnipo-
tence ere time began— and that both were created to
evidence His power and love. "But now ask the
beasts and they shall teach thee; and the birds of the
air and they shall tell thee; and the fishes of the sea
shall tell thee. "Who is ignorant that the hand of the
Lord hath made all these things."— Job xii:7-8-9.

All the works of creation proclaim and reveal the
Creator, some to a greater and some to a lesser degree;
and to different individuals more or less as they are
more or less worthy. And again many of His works
specially typify and illustrate some of the many vir-
tues and obligations commended and commanded by
God for the observance of man in all his relations
with his fellow man which he cannot ignore and from
which he cannot absolve himself without transgress-
ing the laws ordained for his observance by his Crea-
tor.

The firmament, unmeasured and unmeasurable, un-
known and unknowable, above and beyond the com-
prehension of man- type of God, of omnipotence, of
the Creator, of eternity; the sun in the heavens— tvpe
of the glories of heaven, the lie-ht md warmth of
God's love and mercy, the mid-day light of conscience
to illumine the straight and narrow path of duty or-
dained for man to follow ; the moon and stars glisten-
ing in space, witnesses of the great Jehovah, of worlds
unknown— type of the angelic host throughout unend-

The Oldest Book in the World.

261

ing space and witnesses of the eternal Ood and dia-
dems in His crown of Glory ; the ever swelling and
Barging billows of the ocean — type of the unending
warfare of life, their ebb and flow the onslaught, re-
pulse, and perturbations upon the battlefield of the
world.

Ecstatics, Mystics, and other holy ones have ever
found pleasure, benefit and strength in the pursuit of
holiness when contemplating these and similar exalted
and uplifting works of His hands. The great masses
of mankind, now as in the past, must ever be content
to walk in more humble paths, but even here they
may find more ample food to ponder and aid them to
a fuller realization and appreciation of the goodness
and bounty of the Godhead. No impossible opportu-
nity nor transcendant genius is imperative or even
necessary for the observation or contemplation of the
more commonplace things of Nature. Let us then.
Viator, take courage and journey into the neighboring
wood 3 about and upon yon gentle acclivity and ponder
the lesson that some of its varied commonplaces
teach to those who have eyes that see and ears that
hear.

Ah ! this once cultivated field tells the story of
human ambition and herculean endeavor to subdue the
forest and make its broad acres subservient to the
sustenance of man, but now abandoned to pasturage
and undergrowth it tells in forcible language that what
one man or generation esteemeth wisdom another
esteeroeth folly, what one generation buildeth up
another teareth down. But here w« are again beside
the rippling brook ever joyfully fulfilling its allotted
task and telling us never to grow weary in well doing ;

2H2

Gathered Waiklets.

its sparkling cascades beneath the nmbrageous trees
make beantifnl pictures as does the man who performs
his alloted task in patience without ranrmuring and
repining; its sibilant music falls pleasantly and sooth-
ingly upon the ear as does the tale of good deeds done
in the darkene<l places of life. But as we journey to
higher levels upon the hillside beyond we must for the
present defer the further consideration of the many
other manifest, beautiful and valuable lessons that the
meandering brook in the woods teaches and accentu-
ates. But now we are in the denser growth and nearing
the summit where after our exertion a towering elm
invites us to halt our footsteps and enjoy agreeable
repose beneath its protecting shade. Looking upwards,
we discover that its robust spreading branches sustain
an extensive and luxuriant grapevine. We observe
more closely an.l discover that the tendrils of the
weakling vine have laid firm hold upon the body and
limbs of the giant oak and ambitiously climbed above
the topmost branches to expose its large clusters of
luscious grapes to the clearer air and the ripening rays
of the autumnal sun. Without mental effort it dawns
upon us that we are all vines and oaks in turns ; we forci-
bly realize that if our places in life be that of the vine—
in the lowly and dependent places of lite spintuaUy
and temporally— we must not be content to stay down
—we must not be content with unfruitful low levels.
The pathway of life abounds in towering elms in the
spiritual order, and that, like the fruitful vine, we
must seek out and lay hold of, nor rest content until
we at least reach fructifying heights and obtain fruitful
results in abundance— like the vine we must not be
content to remain indifferent and inactive upon the

The Oldkst Book in thk Woblu.

2(S8

fj^und — the lower walks of life — to be trampled upon
and prevented from doing well onr allotted task in thn
world for our own credit and benefit, the greater wel-
fare of our fellow man, and our etemrl salvation. We
observe how the seeming helpless vine put forth enter-
prise to seek out and energy to seize up<jn its opportunity
and lay hold upon the towering oak and make nse of
its kindly oftices to attain to a higher plane than did
its supporting benefactor where it fully attained the
purpose of its existence.

It also stands out iu our minds as boldly and clearly
as the noonday that the robust, gnarled oak — towering,
sturdy, a king among the trees and seemingly conscious
of its own strength, dignity and importance in the
forest — did not spurn the advances of the weak and
lowly nor withhold its aid in bearing the burdens of
the hopeless, helpless vine. Herein we read the good-
ness and mercy of God who commanded the strong to
be merciful to the weak and assist them to bear their
burdens. In early times Ood commanded Moses to
associate with liimself seventy of the aucients, saying :
"1 will take of the spirit, and will give to tliem, that
they may bear with the burden of the people, and thou
may not be burthened alone." Numbers xi: 17. In
the New Testament we read in the inspired words of
St. Paul when instructing and exhorting the people of
Ualatia: "Bear ye one another's burdens," Galatians
vi : 2. This highest doctrine of sympathy and aid is
but another form of the command of the Master " That
ye love one another," and " The greatest of these is
Charity." Again the elm typifies the grace and mercy
of God ever a tower of strength and love to sustain the
burdens of all — grace and mercy more abundant and

364 Gatkkbsd Waiflktb.

available to erring and weakly ones than are atnrdy
oaks to weakling vines. The powerful man— the man
conscious of his strength and importance may also
learn a valuable lesson in humility, right living, and
helpfulness to his fellow man by meditating upon the
lesson taught by the lordly elm to the helpless.

But the sun has gone down beyond the western hills
and the gathering gloom now prevents further perusal
of the oldest book in the world, but the valuable
lessons learned will long remain a cherished memory
and be a great incentive to the more faithful perform-
ance of duty. "The heavens show forth the glory of
God, and the firmament declareth the work of His
hands," Psalms xviii:l. "All ye works of the Lord,
bless the Lord; praise and exalt Him above all for-
ever." Daniel iii:.')-7.—jlnno/« of St. Anthony'$ Shrine,
Worcester, Mais., June, 1912,

'I ii

MOOSE AND MOOSE HUNTING HINTS FOR
BUDDING NIMRODS.

THE American sportsman who owes allegiance to
the stars and stripes finds much to regret and
much to deplore when he compares and contrasts
the opening and closing years of the nineteenth century.
One hundred years ago vast game regions stretched their
seemingly endless extent in all directions and game so
abounded in forest and on prairie that its capture had

fptJ

■II

M0O8l AND MoOHE Hl'NTINO HlNTK.

26r>

not reached the dignity of sport. Nearing tlie cloKe
of the century tlie immense flockH of wild pigoons, tluit
in their flight obscured tlie sun as a cloud, and the
mighty herds of buffalo that roamed upon the western
plains in countless thousands have been blotted out
forever. Keeping pace therewith the areas in wliioh
other big game aboundeil have Iwen so encroached
upon and destroye*! that but little now remains that
is accessible to the masses to reward the enterprise,
skill and pcrserverance of the most ardent sportsman
or to reward his knowle<lge and best efforts.

Aside from the very few who visit the distant Rock-
ies for an interview with old Ephraim, the mountain
lion, or the hardy and elusive cliff-climbing sheep in
their craggy homes, a shot at some member of the
genus Cervidae is about all most sportsmen who seek
big game hope for; ami fortunate indeed is he who has
to grace his den a handsome set of antlers of the noble
elk, the erratic caribou, the majestic buck, or — grand-
est of all— the monarch of the forest, the lordly moose
killed in honorable combat. As might be expected, tliis,
the greatest of the deer family, is the largest and rarest
of all, and as such his pursuit and capture awakens
the earnestness and stimulates the enthusiasm of the
sportsman to a pitch far away ami beyond that of all
others. Many who have stalked and killed the lesser
deer hesitate to go in pursuit of moose, doubtless pre-
vented in many cases by the over-painted pictures and
exaggerated tales of the difficulties, dangers and dis-
appointments attendant thereon. Thrilling hair-
breadth escapes from the charging infuriated animals,
so boastingly and persistently told in print and orally,
have their principal foumlation in an abnormal lively

26G

Oatxiebed Waiflets.

imagination and a love for drawing tlie long bow
rather than in any experience liltely to befall the
sportsniun iluring all the hunting years that measure
the span of a long ilfe.

While difficulties, dangers, accidents and disappoint-
ments are met witli in every walk of life tUey are not
more in evidence in moose hunting than in other unal-
agous pursuits, untl with ordinary foresight and pru-
dence they nuiy be reduced to a minimum. Perhu])s
an exception should be made of one difficulty which
many who would like to pass a season in the wilder-
ness in pursuit of moose will find a great if not an im-
passible barrier to surmount— to provide the re(}uisite
funds to pay the expenses, as moose hunting is quite
an expensive luxury. For the rest, no serious appre-
hension need deter the experienced hunter of lesser
game, or even the novice, from undertaking the a<lven-
ture anc' ')assing a season of rare enjoyment in the
woods in the ih'ep snows and cold of winter far from
the habitations of man in pursuit of the game which
it is his fondest ambition to pursue and cai)turo.
Whatever of difficulty and inconvenience formerly
i'xisteil has now been largely overcome by niod<^rn
conditions and methods. Palatial steamboats and
sumptuous railway trains now luxuriously and rapidly
tran.sport the sportsman and his impediments quite
near to his ch'stination where u comi)etent fac-totem
and guide is in waiting to pilot 1dm to a rough but
comfortable camp in the wilderness which is as well
sup|)lied with all the necessaries and luxuries of
modern civilization as his patnm may desire or liis
pocket-book alTord.

Moose are still found in northern latitudes, Maine,

i !•'

Moose and Moose Hunting Hints.

267

Canada and the Maritime Provinces, and hither ^o
sportsmen in pursuit. Conditions in these different
places are substantially alike, and substantially the
same methods are adopted in their pursuit and capture.
It is true that in outlying localities, and in places not
snificiently looked after by those entrusted with the
enforcement of the game laws and the protection of
game, lai^e numbers of moose and other of the deer
family are shamefully slaughtered in the deep snows
and disabling ice crusts of winter; but as the sportsman
worthy of the name would scorn to resort to illegal and
cruel methods to capture game it is only mentioned here
to be condemned. Companionship, however much
prized elsewhere, is doubly valued and appreciated in
the woods and in the camp, but too much care and
circumspection cannfit be exercised in selecting camp-
ing companions. Friendships e.xtending over many
years in centres of population have been rudely sun-
dered when put to the test of a few weeks' life in
closest relationship in camp, the pleasures of the trip
marred or wholly destroyed, and after years embit-
tered. Campers of long experience have often been
declared selfish and even churlish when refusing to
admit new members to their hunting party, but such
decision and practice is Vjased upon experience and its
wisdom is to be commended.

The tenderfoot when planning for his moose hunt-
ing trip can easily obtain desired information as to
locality, game laws, game prospects, e.xpense, local
customs and conditions, and the like, from hand-books
of travel from some of the many sportsmen of ex-
perience in his city or town, from some of the vari-
ous sportsmen's publications, bureaus of information,

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S68

Gathered Waiflets.

. :t

and other sourcts. He is also to decide which method
of hunting he propoBes to adopt,— whether by caUing
or BtiU hunting— as this is governed by the season.
Let us hope that his time is at his own disposal and
that he wisely decides upon the ideal method of manly
still hunting to vindicate his prowess and to secure his
coveted trophy. For successful stiU hunting the
ground should be covered with a sufficient depth of
dry, fluffy or soft snow to thoroughly deaden the foot
fall and render travelling noiseless. It is next to im-
possible to successfuUy still hunt moose upon the bare
ground because of the noise made in travelling, by the
rustling of disturbed leaves, breaking sticks, or upon
crusted snow for a like reason. The best season for
StiU hunting moose varies in different latitudes and in
different localities. An abundance of snow will be
found in northern Canada weeks in advance of Maine
and the Maritime Provinces. Should the former coun-
try be decided upon the trip may be made soon after
the 'oen season begins, but if it is decided to go to
Maine or the Provinces U) the eastward it had better be
deferred until the middle or latter part of the open
season to ensure the most favorable weather condi-
tions and the best prospects for getting the game
sought In most cases blankets, food, cooking uten-
sils, dishes, lamps, lanterns, axe, saw and other camp
necessaries will be furnished by the camp owner and
guide— or they wiU be if he is so notified in advance
—thus saving his patron expense and annoyance, and
being "to the manner bom" he knows best what is
needed and is not likely to omit anything that may be

required. .

StiU hunting is decided on, camp selected, guide

Moose and Moose Hunting Hints.

269

engaged, date of dparture fixed, now what will the
novice require for his personal outfit? Of course in
this, as in other matters, individual tastes vary much
and this must be reckoned with, but right here
let me say that the greater the experience of sportsmen
in the woods the less they take with them, and yet
have all that is needed for their comfort. Perhaps
the most comprehensive word of advice to give the
novice at the outset is contained in the suggestive and
expressive word — don't. Don't consult the latest fash-
ion plate and then procure the sportsman's garb
therein delineated; don't carry a dress suit, collars,
cufEs, neckties, and perfumery ; don't carry a packing
case filled with foot wear — hip gum boots, short gum
boots, and the various kinds and qualities of sports-
men's leather boots; don't carry sleeping bags,
mackintoshes, umbrellas or dressing slippers ; don't —
don't—.

Keraember that the camp is in an out-of-the-way
place wliere there will be no operas, social gatherings,
formal dinners, receptions, or other city functions,
and where if the improbable should happen and the
latch string of the camp be pulled by strangers they
wiU expect to find all clothed like themselves in the
toggery of the woods. Aside from this, the trans-
portation of what should be taken into the distant
camp in the wilderness will be found a sufficient
burden and every ounce of dispensable outfit should
be left behind.

A single woods suit of strong clothing is ample and
it should be made of cloth manufactured from hard
spun wool which will be the most comfortable and
best withstand the rough and tumble life of the forest

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1 m

270 Gathered Waiflets.

and prove best to resist the stonns of snow or rain
that may be encountered. The coat should be made
Spencer style and furnished with belt and plenty of
inside and outside pockets— the outside pockets to be
provided with deep lapels to resist the entrance of
broken twigs, snow and the like. The pants should
be very roomy in the body part to permit of stoop-
ing, climbing over fallen trees, and other unusual
postures. They should have an opening at the bot-
tom of the legs on the outside and extending upward
nearly to the knees and secured by spring buttons.
This permits them to be closely wrapped about the
ankles and legs without wrinkling when the outside
over-stockings are drawn on and thus adding comfort
and protection to the wearer. Coat, pants and vest
should be sewed with very strong linen thread and all
buttons thoroughly attached. For the head a soft felt
hat with a fairly wide brim will prove more satisfac-
tory than a cap or other head covering. The felt hat
is light, easy upon the head, protects the eyes, sheds
snow or rain, prevents the snow that is frequently dis-
lodged from overhanging trees from falling down the
neck, and in case of camping out upon the trail it
makes a very satisfactory night cap. For the hands,
home-made woolen mittens that may be obtained at a
nominal price in nearly all frontier stores, having a
single finj^er for the index finger, will be found the
warmest and the most practical and satisfactory. For
footwear nothing is superior to the moccasins and
pacs of primitive times for still hunting in winter.
Should the snow be so deep as to require snow shoes,
they are indispensable. They are made from leather,
generally tanned locally for this purpose, and they

iriMisE A.sn Moose IIixtino Hints.

271

may be purclmsMl at ii very nominal price in most
places wlicTe moose are hunted unil their purchase
may well be deferred until arrival. They should be
sufficiently large to permit the use of two pairs of
lieavy woolen socks besides the heavy outside over
stockings which come up to or above the knees out
side the pants where they are fastened by straps.
Feet thus protected will be dry and warm, and no
hanilicaj) of weight will he imposed upon the wearer
as is the case with other footwear. Should the feet
of the wearer be unduly tender and sensitive to th(!
uneven footing, addituinal prot<>ction is easily sup-
plied by putting an inner-sole of heavy leather, or, in
an emergency, of llexihie white birch bark, in the
bottom of the moccasin. This footwear will seem a
great innovation at first and for a few days particular
care will be reciuired in iilaeing the foot to prevent
slipping. Having no heels, an unusual strain will bo
put upon the llexor iiinseles and tendons, causing stiff-
ness and some pain, but this will wear away in a few-
days. An abundance of handkerchiefs, stockings, ami
a couple of suits of und<'rwear will lie all the other
clothing needed. A eom|iass, water tight match bo.v
and matches, a stout leather belt, a strong pocket-knife,
and a hunting knife and sheath completes the outfit
with the exception of the weapon and amnmnition. In
recent years nuich has been said and written for and
against small bore rifies, ami very often contention has
waxed exceedingly hot. Summed U|) into a single sen-
tence, it seems a case of many men and many minds.
.-\n indivi<lual makes a fortunate shot — it may be by
skill and it nmy be by chance — and forthwith he goes
into ecstiieies over his phenominal weapon to which he

1 1

272

Gathered Waiflets.

il' i

accords highest appreciation and superlative praise.
Others have tried and discarded the small bore and in
disgust have returned to their first love and resumed
the weapon of larger caliber and said nothing about
it — and thus is fame and blame sustained and propa-
gated. , ^

It is true that in former times manufacturers in-
sisted and persisted in putting useless metal into the
larger bore rifles which made them unwieldy, cumber-
some and a tiresome load to carry. This was protested
against by users, but the protest was unheeded, il^e
time was ripe for improvement - the small bore nfle
appeared and at once jumped into popular favor.
The nitro-powder cartridge was also a step in the
same direction and it also quickly became a PopuJ"
favorite. Heavy rifles were rapidly discarded and the
popular refrain in behalf of the small bore and mtro
ammunition grew in volume and intensity. The manu-
facturers of heavy rifles awoke from their lethargy
and indifference and made great efforts to meet the
popular rival bv reducing the unnecessary weight of
their weapons an J supplying nitro ammunition for
their use. On the score of weight and ammumtion
there is now but little choice -it is largely caliber
versus caliber between the admirers of each, with
no likelihood of an ex-cathedra decision ever being

reached. . ,

For long distance shooting the initial velocity of
the small bore bullet is in its favor, but as few shots
are ever obtained, when still hunting moose, at greater
distance than one hundred yards this advantage is
more theoretical and academical than real and prac-
tical Bullets for all calibers can be had that will

MoosB AND Moose Hunting Hints. 273

mushroom by impact so there is no advantage on this
score for the swifter speeding smaU caliber bullet.
The impact or blow from the larger and heavier bul-
let must be more destructive and overpowering tlian
the smaller and lighter bullet and its increased killing
zone should commend it to the sportsman who desires
to make a clean kill in preference to inflicting a
wound that will result in a lingering death after the
game has gone beyond his reach. The man who
drives home a railway spike does not use a tack ham-
mer, nor does the man who drives a carpet tack use a
sledge hammei--each uses an implement in proportion
to the work performed.

A favorite weapon with many experienced sports-
men and guides, and one which many have again re-
sumed after giving small bore rifles extended trial on
l)ig game, is a modified form of the old time 4.'')-7()—
round barrel, twenty-four to twenty-six inches long,
half-magazine, shot gun butt, Lyman ivory bead front
and adjustable peep rear sight, and weigliing about
seven pounds. Xitro or black powder cartridges may
be used if preferred, and with solid, soft nose, hollow
or split pointed bullets it is a formidable weapon at
short range. It is light and easily carried, the barrel
being short it is handy in the woods, not nearly so
liable to get the muzzle full of snow when carrying
it with extended arm or when ascending hills or moun-
tain sides. Properly aimed and held it will not disap-
point when put to the test and the successful sportsman
will gladly accord it the place of honor upon the hand-
some antlers in his den that it secured for their proud
owner.

i ««#

PARADOXES AND SPORT.

HAD it been bo ordained that onr psth^-r
through life would be marked by an nn» id-
ing ball of thread, what devious pathway
would be revealed on attaining the summit of life,
and how difficult the task of retracing our footsteps !

And could we scan the tortuous unwinding of our
mental footsteps, would we not be confronted with
many inconsistencies and paradoxes that highest phil-
osophy could not explain nor harmonize 2

The toddling boy on his way to school pelts the
frogs with pebbles, and therein finds superktive joy;
his older brother climbs a tree and robs the helpless
mother of her callow brood, and finds pleasure in ex-
hibiting his booty to his envious and admiring com-
panions: and the beardless youth about to exchange
the pulpy adolescence of immaturity for the less mo-
bile material of manhood finds keenest diversion in
setting miles of snarw to capture the unsuspecting
grouse.

Childhood, boybwod and youth vanish with the fleet-
ing years, and pebbles and snares give place to rod and
gun — engines of greater destruction, and more relent-
less. Waters are vexed and forests overrun, and
satiety is still beyond the horizon; the highest peak
is no barrier, and the ice fields of the frigid north do
not repel; man armed with the implements of death

Paradoxes and Sport. 27.1

ever continneg the work of degtniction dnrinB all his
active years.

The boy who pelted the froga has now ascended the
steps to the heights of opulence, and purchased the
flshiDK rights at a fabulous price in some famous sal-
mon stream, and now with all the ardor of exalted
manhood he contemplates with disdain and launches
nnkind epithets and vehement anathemas upon aU who
must be content with lesser sport; the 'der brother
has long since exchanged his hundreds-perhaps hi,
thonsands-of dollars for a membership in some mil.
Iionaire ducking club, and now learnedly discourses
upon th.. ethics of sp^vrtgmanship and the higher
branches thereof, and he has only contemptuous sneers
and severest deminciatious for those with a smaller
bank account, au.l who per force must be content with
more humble sport, while he and his companions wage
me^^.les3 warfare upon the sea-fowl when on their
migration to their breeding grounds in the distant
north in the early spring. The beardless youth in
after years has 'orgotten all about his grouse snares
of earlier rrean, and he is now foremost in the en-
deavor to secure legislation against their use, and
glows with enthusiasm when relating his adventure
in the distant wilds, where in the still evening of
autumn time he sent the cruel leaden messengers of
death through the heart of the unsuspecting lordly
buU moose, lured into his presence by the seductive
music of the bireh-bark horn in the hands of his skiU-
ful Indian guide !

He would resent with righteous indignation and
scorn the suggestion that such slaughter savored of
butchery, and he doubtless would be heard above the

-lia

fill

J >:U

27C Oathkhbd Waivlkts.

other* who »it in judjfmentand condemnation of jack-
ing deer, and with emphatic vociferation loudly extol
the one while roundly denouncing the other.

How oft, alas 1 do the words of the poet come un-
bidden, and with what force and emphasis do they

apply :

"When such occasions are,
No plea must serve; 'tis cruelty to spare."
And where is he who wiU cast the first stone J Where
is he who will caU a halt ? Where is he who wiU iix
metes and bounds? And must all find shelter and
protection under the generous segis of the ethics of
sportsmanship^

The boundary line is but too often an indistinct
blaised trail, leadiug through many a devious pathway,
and across which many thoughtlessly wander; and
a generous chivalry fonndml upon consistency should
prompt a becoming modesty to withhold wonis of cen-
sure and condemnation when they may apply with
greater force to him who utters them than to the per-
son for whom intended.

We should not be unmindful of the words of Alex-
ander Pope, written more than two hundred years ago:
"Pleasure, or wrong or rightly understood,
Our greatest evil or our greatest good."
—Forest and Stream, New York, N. Y., March .?6,
1898.

MASSACHUSETTS IN A, D. 1900.

DIVEROINCI PATils.

WELL, it is just this way. You know Massa-
chusetts has the only "blarney stone" in
America. It got its reputation some cen-
turies back by the landing thereabout, thereat or
thereon of a mi.st wonderful people who brought
with them all the virtues of all the ages, and also rare
and valuable curios au ' heirlooms from England and
the factory villages of HoUand, where they worked in
the woolen mills— sufficient at this distant day to
make several ship loads.

But this story is a different tale. What I want to
say is that Massachusetts has been peopled nigh on to
30U years and has now a population of over 8,000,0(10
upon her 7,800 square miles of territory. Men of
hasty judgment might therefore conclude, in view of
this long period of settlement, limited area and dense
population, that the sportsman could find but little
enjoyment with bird dog, gun and rod, but little to
tempt his effort or reward his skill— but here again
syllogistic reasoning would be at fault and such con-
clusions far from the truth.

It is true that large game is no longer found within
her boundaries, nor is the lordly salmon taken in the
waters of the State ; but the smaller varieties of game
- fur, fin and feather— still abound in large variety
and fairly generous in quantity throughout the State.

?'t

MICIOCOfY HSOIUTION IISI CHADT

lANSr and ISO TEST CHART No, 2)

A APPLIED IM^GE In,

S78

Gathered Waiflets.

More fox pelts are taken annually than any but the
initiated would believe. Coons furnish keenest zest
for another large contingent. Hares, rabbits and gray
squirrels allure many. Others pursue the mink, musk-
rat and sable, and occasionally an otter gives up his
valuable coat of fur to a more fortunate hunter,
who becomes an envied one in the guild of sports-
men.

For rufled grouse, the king of game birds, no State
in the Union furnishes better coverts, and as for food
no succession of varied mast or more generous in
quantity exists elsewhere.

Birch, apple, poplar and other buds for midwinter
food, partridge berries, bunch berries, blueberries,
huckleberries, blackberries, wild grapes, apples, thorn
apples, chestnuts, acorns and other food in abundance
throughout the year. Water there is also in the numer-
ous rivers, brooks, ponds and reservoirs, and dense
growths of scrub oak, chestnut, pine and other decidu-
ous and coniferous trees and shrubs for isolation and
protection, furnish an ideal environment in which they
rapidly propagate and multiply, and where, despite the
great slaughter wrought by the pot-hunter and the
snares of the grangers' sons, they are yet found in
large numbers.

Then there are the upland plover, woodcock, quail,
snipe and all the tribe of marsh and shore birds, besides
the migrating sea-fowl, to lend variety and charm and
to well reward an outing with dog and gun.

But I set out to tell of a day with rod and creel, but
a short time ago, which, with a couple of friends, I
spent beside a babbling trout brook not far distant
from the Heart of the Commonwealth in the good Old

Massachusetts m a. d.

191 JO.

270

S-S;!'^"'"'" "«- «'-^^^« °« i" -other
n« c^fK \, ' "™^^ *""^''«'" ■" them now so let

the aiT and senddin, ciXhv^ tl SeT J

wind suggest refreshing showers. ^ "**■

ihe catkins upon the willows have burst fm™ fi. ■

^.1

280

Gathered WAtFiEis.

would return to him at nnon time for lunch, it then
being it o'clock. The brook was industriously whip-
ped, and not without success, until the nooning hour.
A goodly showing of the superlatively beautiful trout
were displayed upon the grass when all gathered at
the pool, to which our convalescent friend contributed
a generous number as his reward for three hours'
patient fishing.

Being somewhat tired after my tramp and effort, I
sat down upon the opposite bank, and more to while
away the time and to appear social than with any ex-
pectation of capturing a prize, I cast into the pool, and
soon lauded a trout which measured fourteen inches
and weighed one pound and two ounces. After eating
our lunch and spending a half hour in recounting the
pleasures and adventures of the day, I again essayed
the pool, and to my surprise and delight soon landed
my record trout for the brooks of Massachusetts. He
measured eighteen inches in length and weighed two
pounds ten ounces seven hours after his capture.

Receiving hearty congratulations from my compan-
ions, well satisfied with our outing and success, we
turned our steps homeward, proud to know that at the
dawn of the twentieth century hillside and dale, covert
and marsh, upland and sea shore, were still the home
of such variety and quantity of fur and feathered
game, and that little trout brooks which the fisherman
may readily stand astride of in the old and densely
populated State of Massachusetts still contain such
trout to attract and reward the patient and persistent
angler who knows their htiunta.— Forest and Stream,
June 2, 1900.

BIG GAME HUNTING.

ECHOES FROM NEW BBtlNSWtCK.

SINCE returning with my moose from New Bmns-
w.ck last season my mail has brought me many
inquiries from widely different parts of our
country .n relation to the Province and other subjectT

about th ^ ""■*'*'•' "' *"« artiele-inqS

about the country, its people, game laws, game, routes
conveyances, expense, prospects for gett ng bi^ gama
and many other things about which fnforiTtfon
would likely be sought by amateui. and sp : men
of experience in the wilderness after big game who

t'Ser'' T'^P^''*-^ » *rip to a Strang count^
together with running comments thereon.

To answer all has taken much time, butaU have had
answer, as will any others which may follow but
thinking that the subject might be of interelt' and
possibly suggestive and helpful to many more Cho

liberty to ask for it, it has seemed to me best to state

Ss Ob e T'''* °"'"'*'^' '•'^ ^'^* °f *J>« -•

thereto ' " "'""'"^'''^ """^^ "d the replies

To most sportsmen in the United States New Bruns-
wick IS a geographical entity only-a smaU spot upon

282

Oathehbd Waifiets.

f "

the map of the Contiuent, easily covered by the
thumb — and what can such a dot contain that would
attract or interest them?

The old adige has it "Nothing is great gave by
comparison;" and what is such an insignificant area
in comparison to the seeming endless expansion of ter-
ritory to the west and southwest?

Some who have written to me complainingly say
that while it ought to be of us and with us, it is not —
that it flies and seeme loyal to a foreign flag that was
lowered to the Stars and Stripes on American soil
more than a hundred years ago, and that they have no
naore love for it to^lay and what it symbolizes than
did their stout-hearted forbears in '76, and while they
would like to sample its fish and game, these convic-
tions and sentiments are difficult to overcome or sup-
press, and their constant out-cropping would make
them iU at ease in such environment.

And others again, writing from a distance, inquire
if the Province is not too far away, the game too dii-
flcult of access, and if the Government does not main-
tain too great surveillance over visiting sportsmen,
and if it has not too much inquisition, inspection,
overhauling of baggage, collecting of customs, too
high a license fee for hunting big game, too stringent
game laws, and if the guides are not prompted by Gov-
ernment officials and prominent sportsmen to extort
outrageous fees for very poor service and the most
primitive and indifferent accommodations ?

And many have come to think — and have so ex-
pressed themselves— at they seem to hear "You
must! You must!" echoed and re-echoed by every
passing broeze; and when you tell a son of Uncle Sam

Bio Game Huntiho. 28»

-You mn8t!"-well, there i, an excellent chance for
an argument, and at best a disagreement.

And others express them-selves as expecting to see
f they ever arrive in New Krunswick £. s. d embla-
^oned upon every leaf an.l impressed upon every snow
flake, an,i a stand-and-deliver command from every per-
son whose services might be required,
dn M "^"i," "'•'«'« '"^°"t that they are incrednlous-
cram"^ J p""""' ^" *° «P-k-who believe the

are but the old gIad.hand.song.and<Iance act put forth
to inveigle them out of their money, and which are so
much in evidence elsewhere.

These stated generaUy, and some of them verbatim
are among the more prominent complaints and objec!
tions as they have come to me, and asking for my per-
sonal experience in relation thereto, especially in so far
as It woul.l tend to their confirmation, modification
explanation or denial. '<-ai:ion,

A surprising fact in relation to these in.iuiries im-
pressed me with singular force-not one was received
from a man who hunted moose by calling, or who
defended the practice. On the contrary seve^l
denounced this method as heartless, cold-blooded
butchery, unsportsmanlike, and which should not have
ofiicial sanction in any civilised country at the dawn
of the twentieth century.

Grouping and condensing my answers, they were
given substantially as subjoined.

There is no place in the Western Hemisphere of
equal or even much larger area, and probably not In
the world, especially so near centers of population
and ease of access, so abounding in extensive forests

284

Gathered Waiplbts.

(about ten millions of acres of wilderness, the natural
home of moose and caribou), that wiU at all compare
with New Brunswick, nor which can truthfully boast
of as much bi)^ game to the square mile.

Deer are not yet much in evidence, although men
of observation and experience, and who are in the best
position to judge, aver that they are rapidly increas-
ing in numbers.

For deer alone New Brunswick does not compare
favorably with Maine; for caribou only Newfoundland
is far superior; but for the lordly moose, the object of
the Eastern sportsmen's highest ambition, and caribou,
neither alone "or both together are so sure to reward
the effort as a trip to the wilderness and barrens of
New Brunswick.

The subject not being now under consideration, we
will not allude to the number and quality of her
famous trout streams or her many salmon rivers of
world-wide fame.

To the objection of distance and difficulty of access
answer was made that many sportsmen in the United
States do not tind a trip to the land of perpetual winter
within the arctic circle, to the glaciers of Aln^ika, to the
summit of the Himalayas, or to the jungles of India,
too far away, as presenting too many obstacles to sur-
mount, or an outlay of time and money that is prohib-
itive ; nor the presence of an alien flag or different laws
and customs an intolerant or repelling obstacle.

Certainly such, and individuals with the right stuff
in them, will not find a trip to any of the maritime
provinces other than a school-boy experience in com-
parison.

Then again, the real sportsman, the sportsman de-

Bio Gamb Huntino. 286

serving the name, h a gentleman, respecting and
respected, tolerant and tolerated. Being keen of ob-
servation having a nell-informed and weU-balanced
mind, and positive convictions, if you wiU_he knows
and respects the rights and feelings of others, and his
good breeding and manly training prompt him to care-
fuUyavoKl all mooted questions of religion, country,
politics and the like, as becomes a gentleman and
cosmopolite; and to such a sportsman will be extended
a warm welcome and the right hand of fellowship
whenever he visits New Brunswick.

But there are sportsmen and sportsmen. Sports-
manship is a very loose term, and it is so indefinite
and elastic as to permit many, very nany, to masquer-
ade under Its guise who are no credit to, and who should
be refused feUowship in, the guild. This is nowhere
bener known and appreciated than in Kew Brunswick
1 his element her people do not want, and they are
not timid or backward in saying so; and if her laws
and customs prevent their coming, then are her laws
and customs very satisfactory to themselves.

I was Tnf.,rmed by several of the leading citizens in
government station, prominent people and guides, thai
his was one of the ends aimed at in the enactment of
her fish and game laws-the other being the propaga-
tion, development, protection and conservation of their
iish and game.

Tlie people generaUy in station high or humble are
frank in their avowal that they do not propose to have
their country overrun, and their fish and game destroyed
and possibly exterminated, as they have been in many
places in our own country by such an army as is at-
tracted to other places by managers of railroads, pro-

286

Gatiikficd Waiflktm.

it j

prietoin of hotels, camp owners and ((nides, and whose
shameful and unlimited killinf; is invited, applauded
and advertised to swell its ever and rapidly growing
numbers.

The fish and game of New Rrunawick belong to her
people, and who will question their right to name the
conditions under which they may betaken by residents
and non-residents i

If such conditions as are imposed are not satisfac-
tory to non-residents they may stay at home or go
elsewhere, and no one will complain. If, on the other
hand, a wise foresight protects, develops and perpetu-
ates this big gaij e, prized trout and lordly salmon,
will any one with the head and heart of a man not
approve! And if her laws and customs exclude this
army of destruction, then are not her laws and cus-
toms to be commended and continued in the interest
of higher and better sportsmanship and the conserva-
tion of her flsh and game ?

The question of a high license fee may be regarded
as involved in and sufficiently answered by the forego-
ing; but should it seem unjustified to some, I have
asked if when two weeks' time are taken for a trip to
the woods in midwinter after the big game, and possi-
bly the only two weeks for recreation and recuperation
available during the twelve months of the year, when
traveling expenses, supplies, guides and the many other
little necessaries have been paid for, is it not better to
pay the added expense of a license and be reasonably
sure of getting what you go for, than to go elsewhere
and save this expense and be reasonably certain of not
getting what you go for?

And this, it seems to me, is a correct sizing up of the

Hi« Gajik IIuntino. 2^7

HitU8tH,n,«ndafullju«tific«tion„fthelicen8ef«ec.l.a««

M the moo»e country of New Brunswick, with almost

any apo op for a guide to sho« ■ ■« the lay 0^

Jin, and how best to get to and fro- your camp ami

speUed with capitals, intervenes between you and your

derbir""'^ '"" '""'^- '"- "-'"" - -^■

Your success or failure Mill almost certainly deDen.l

dT«o'tia7rh''"r"''"'"''^--'^ ""« «-"-' >-«'"

«iry, so that he leaves rustle; if it don't rain weat
guns; If It don-t sleet; if the snow don't ThawTnd
hen freeze and form a crust; in fine, should yon be
avore., with good weather and especidly with'a dn.

a good stiff wind accompany the latter and make the
trees creak and groan and the limbs rattle-then the
big moose you sought for without avail elsewhere for
so many years IS atyour mercy,an<l steady nerv> .nd
careful aim will certainly make him yours

In New Brunswick you wiUnot find the tidy camps
good service and skiUed guides of the AdirondaX
Maine, and other leading sportsmen's resorts, and this
wiU serve to remind and impress upon you the truth
and force of the old French saying, "fhacque pays a
sa guise. • Certain it is e^ ery country and every pe<^
pie have their peculiar ways and customs, and New
Brunswick is no exception.

The tidy peeled spruce log caoins, cooking stoves
furniture, comfortable beds and other features of cm!
ization met with elsewhere, here give w-ay to the can
vas tent, the bark lean-to, bough beds upon the earth
and cooking before and over the open outdoors fire.

' ■;

i I.

* i

S88

Gathered Waifleth.

What the ((nides lack in skill and efficiency is com-
penRatetl for in a measure by faithfal service ohee^
fully and promptly rendered. And what if the sports-
man is introduced to a new and more robust and ad-
venturous experience 1 — thrown a little more upon his
own resources i Flas it not its advantaf^esi

The examination of baf^f^age, payment of customs
dues and other formalities, are no more onerous or
burdensome when goinf; to the maritime provinces
than when going to any other foreign country; and the
sportsman from the United Htates must not forget
that his own country may be the most strict and exact-
ing in this regard.

I have many, very many times Ciossed the border,
and temporari y sojourned in the Dominion of Canada,
and I bear niost willing testimony to the uniform
courtesy and forbearance of railway and Government
officials, and their efforts to discharge their duties in
the most formal and least objectionable manner possi-
ble.

If, when you are making your toilet, you see the re-
flection of a gentleman in the looking-glass, rest assured
you will meet in your travels many as clearly entitled
to that designation, not only in public station, but also
in the many other walks of life, and your reasonable
expectations are not likely to suffer disappointment.

I have no special interest in any steamship line,
railway, hotel, camp-owner or guide, and so may be
excused from following the too frequent custom of
paying remitted bills and favors received by cheap
advertising. The usual folders, hand-books of travel,
sportsman's journals and other sources of information
are easily available to all who may contemplate a trip

Bio Gamk IIuntimo. j|8B

to thU attraetive country; bat ehoul.l more exten.le,!
.. -pec,flc,nform«ti„„ U .le««,d a letter of innVi,^
-d.Ire.e.1 to the (>„w„ Un.U department. vZZ
2.\ u" •;: *''" ^'"''' ''""'« <-'"mn,i««ioner, St.
; n A' "••"•'" r''"'"^ '.rin^aJl needled inW
tioD.~f ore,l and Stream, January 37, 1900.

PI40SPKCTIi\(} FOR ^N'OODCOCK IX MAS8A.

C'iiusf:TTs.

IN upkn.h?ame bird shooting, the golden plover-
the earliest migrant-the erratic Wilson snipe.the

each Zt r^ '*'"'"'. "V *''" "■"'>■ '•"«'"' »'"""«« have
each their adm.rere who have not been slow to sing

l^irrr n'T^'''""*'^ »•"* *' «"«« without say
o a day a-field no b.rd of them all in such a general
favonte as tins lover of bog and brake and fern lands,
of birch an.l alder growths beside ninning brooks and
>n the marge and ooze of swampy places-the Ameri-
can woodcock, the Philohela Minor of naturalists.

To the nations of the world Greece is not so weU
known by her triumphs in literature and art-bv the
inspiration of Homer and the genius of Phidias and
the galaxy of unnumbered lesser lights whose achieve-
ments have adorned the civilization of the world and
been the wonder and admiration of sages and scholars

I' !

290

Gatherkd Waiflbts.

1 I,

1:1

for centuries — as by the long-billed favorite of sports-
men and gourmet, upon whom she bestowed the ornith-
ological and Attic name Philohela. Philos-loving,
Ae2o8-bog; to which has been added the Latin word
Minor, smaller or lesser, to distinguish him from his
European brother P. Major, larger or greater, and his
numerous cousins of the order Limicolie, the snipe
family.

But another year has grown apace and the tempered
snn tells that summer is on the wane. Sportsman and
bird^log anxiously await the opening day of the gun-
ning season with the coming of September, but a vig-
orous manhood and love for shooting on the wing and
attendant pleasures make the day seem long distant
and prompts an observation run to old and familiar
haunts to note the prospects for a successful opening
day.

An old friend of many adventures in upland and
sea-fowl shooting, and after big game in Maine and
the Maritime Provinces, a man of rare erudition and a
delightful boon companion, dropped into my sanctum
to while away a reminiscent evening and to plan for
the future. A day was soon settled on when we were
to take a run into the country for this purpose, to the
foot hills of old Wachusett some dozen or more miles
away — the highest elevation in Massachusetts east of
the Connecticut river and dignifled by the name of
mountain. Here bubbling springs and their offspring,
purling brooks, and attendant conditions make an ideal
place for woodcock breeding and as a resting place for
them during the flight time, and here many a time and
oft have sportsmen put in many of their moat delight-
ful and successful days with dog and gun.

Pbospectino for Woodcock.

291

matio„"'wT-f"''""u""^ P"^''^"' of vJnable infor-
mat,on, which .« such a delightful concomitant of a

.ng the morning'8 drive he became eloquently remi-
Sfotr^^ """^ "^^-"^' "^ brief^umm^a7of

fitted°and''tl'*''V^** the Mayflower-which was out-
htted and the colonists, motly and otherwise destined
for what was afterwards known as "Plimoth Pw'
t.on .rub-staked by Merchant Adven'ut. To.
caUed promoters) of England to go forth to AmeZ

eaiVTthr™' TT '"p"™"'* "' ''■^"^w:

Health of the country, the increment to be eqnallv
dmded between the Adventurers and Colonists Itthe
end of the contract period-landed in the harbor of Cane
Cod, down t rough the years that these much va.n «]

holes tt" ^i!r^ """"'""^ P^«-"- - burning
holes through the tongues and cutting off the ears of

those among them whose opinions on religious mat

ers differed from theirs, while claiming ^thattTey

came to this country to escape religious persecution

through the years that their morbid imaginations aw

the incarnation of the Evil One in thefr fellow cTtI

zens whom in their persecuting spirit they sin to

their final account from the end of a halter as witches

through the darkened years of English misrule an]

oppression that preceded the dawn of liberty tha

mimortahzed Lexington and Concord and Bunke

nessed the building up of a broader, more tolemnt

the pastiMr'' I'^'^'^^'r'' -^-•"ly P-J"dices of
the past-Massachusetts has ever commanded, for bet.

iv^

393

Gathebed Waiflets.

ir 1:

i ;

ter or worse, her full share of attention from her sister
states of the Union in her struf^gle for nobler and
better things.

These waves of advancement and retrogression, of
elevation and depression, these nplifts to the pure air
of the sunlit hills and anon the backward swing of the
pendulum to the noisome bogs and fens of the intol-
erant, turbulent, oppressive and repellant, well typify
the broken, rolling, unharmonious topography of the
state. Here is the intolerant and repulsive marsh —
the slough of despond in the landscape — that refuses
entrance to human footsteps ; there, its antithesis, the
clear and placid lake that truthfully mirrors the pass-
ing cloud as well as the clear blue sky above as if to
testify that "truth crushed to earth will rise again" —
and beyond lies the obstinate, stony and sterile soil
that can be subdued and rendered fairly fruitful only by
seemingly endless patience, sacrifice and perseverance.

Again, here is the abandoned farm that mutely tells
the tale of other times and other days, of unrewarded
endeavor, of deprivations and hardships too great to
be endured, and, possibly, to the want of christian
charity, kindly sympathy, and neighboi-ly kindness —
there, the gently sloping hillside shorn of its beauty
by the intolerant axe of tne greedy lumberman — and
beyond, is the mountain in calm repose and indiffer-
ence, seeming to look down in disgust as if to say to
all below "I am holier than thou."

But the sportsman, like the poet and philosopher
and the people who by keeping abreast of the times
have left behind the narrowness and injustice of early
day^, "Finds books in running brooks, sermons in
stones, and good in everything."

Pkospeotino for Woodcock.

2!»3
In his ontinKs he finds near the summit of the bar
«n hm-top the birthplace of sparkling sprint and
pnrhng brooks; the delicate yet vibrant and Tr car

d«-A, I J tfnU through his system as he draws a
dead, bead and puUs the trigger of his old and fZr

2 thVr'"'' *•■' ''™»'"'''^ °f '^^ lo^Jly grouse
and the dua^^ notes of cheery Bob White in the second
g«.wth saphngs and shrubbery on the slopInThm
^de fall as pleasantly on his ear as notes of weetes
muB,c; hesees the home of the frisky grey sou

t^esTnTe" T"" " l"' ''"' ""'^ ^ried ch's ^
trees ,n the older growths that have been spared as
well as those upon almost inaccessible rocky cMs and
the b.rch and alder runs and swampy Icef ^Hch
are scattered about in great abundancfthr ugh^:* t «
hell - 7 *'" '"••*'"*'°^ 8'°-<l« and home o

ockTnT.r ' '"""'^' '^' ^"""y -<! «™tic wood
cock and their stopping place in flight time when ap-

And so the social and ethical side of our state ih.
«ps and downs and ins and outs of our p op e Hml a

sidV:S-!:£h^t'''' '"'"'-'''-' ''^' -'-'«^

siue wnicn—but the team was now in the doorvard of
our farmer friend and his cheery "Good moX and
welcome" put a stop to further comparisonTdTm

how'tte St r "'^"';' ""^ -^-^ -^ -"ed
now the birds had wintered and what the prospect
was for the opening of the season, he said : '' WaW

put out h.^""' *' '^ "'" ''""'■^ "' ^^y' 1"-1« to
pat out has more money than brains. P'raps they

294

Gathkbed Waiflets.

think quails roost in trees and live on bads same as
patridge does, but they don't, an' one good snow that
lasts a week cleans 'em all ont ev'iy time. But pat
ridges been boomin' lots aroun' here all summer, 'an
by Ooll, I never see so many timber^oodles about
here afore in forty year, since I moved on this place.
Bro't yer old dorg with yer, eh ? I never seed a dorg
as knows so much, hanged if I did."

Being told that his report on the birds was most
reassuring, and that his remarks on stocking the cov-
erts with quail had a good deal of horse sense to rec-
ommend them, my red Irish setter dog was asked to
speak his thanks for the farmer's words of apprecia-
tion and praise, which he promptly did by loud bark-
ing.

The horse was now safely housed in the bam and
we took our departure down the lane and across the
pasture to the sag, so called, a hollow depression of an
acre or more on a sunny hillside not far from a birch
and alder run with occasional small pines, fir balsam,
and other coniferous and deciduous trees. This
extensive basin, or sag, as it is called, is doubtless a
vast spring hole as a trickling stream meanders there-
from through the sandy soil of the pasture and unites
with a brook a little lower down. The wash from the
surface of the hiU for unnumbered centuries has en-
riched the soil and given it vast fertility. White
birch saplings grow high into the air until a grape
vine or wild clematis reach out and embrace them ana
pull them over in graceful ellipse to the earth or until
their tops find lodgment in the tops of other shrub-
bery. Rank growing ferns, rhododendrons, laurel,
and other herbaceous plants, grow in riotous profusion

Pbospectino fob Woodcock. 2l)B

PviT'?*'«. '"^^"^ *"'^*'^'''K P^""* ^"^ Mr. and M,-s.
Philohek Minor. Skirting along the upper side and
for a distance beyond, a stone wall separates tlie pa.-
tuw from a large field of com, now well tasselled out
and completely sliading tli. ,-round. Approaching
the sag from the pasture side, my friend climbed to the
top of an immense boulder, some six or seven feet
high, near the edge of the undergrowth, and which
commanded a view over nearly its whole extent.
Keeping Rex in close, I pushed my way through five
or SIX feet of dense undergrowth when he turned
suddenly toward my friend and made a staunch point
within a yard of where I stood. Going as noiselessly
as I might It was impossible for me to hear the quern,
lous twitter of the mother bir^ ,vhen she rose, but my
friends voice broke the silence with the command to
stand perfectly still. This was followed by another
to back out by the very tracks by which I had entered
not deviating a foot to the right or left, and to bring
Rex with me Accomplishing this as best I could, as
Rex persisted m holding his point, we were soon again
m the opening.

"There," said he, "I have seen woodcock do many
strange things in my day but this is the most erratic
of all \ ou see the black alder bush with the red ber-
ries, bes-de which you stood. Well, the instant you
steppea bes.de it a great big woodcock jumped up, sput-
tering all the protest he or she could command, and
]ust clearing the top of the same bush dropped down
again on this side within a yard, I should think, of
where it got up." And this was within a rod of where
we then stood. Calling out to Rex to " go on " he ad
vanced, when up went five woodcock uttering theii

I ',

'i n

296

Gathered Waiflkts.

peculiar querulous whistle in protest at being dis-
turbed. They made only a short flight and dropped
down on the other side of the sag or in the edge of
the com field, it being impossible to tell which from
our location. Ordering Rex to heel and going very
quietly aiound to the opposite side to avoid the dense
and tangled undergrowth, and crossing the stone wall,
we carefully scrutinized the ground at the edge of the
growing com and were soon rewarded with a striking
and beautiful sight. A full grown and well fed wood-
cock came strutting out to the edge of the com, head
up and tail feathers spread out like a fan and almost
touching the back of his head, he was a picture of
pride and independence which seemed to say that he
was monarch of all he surveyed. His right we then
did not dispute but woe betide him should he again
afford us such an opportunity a little later.

We quietly retraced our steps and took our depart-
ure to Woodcock Rock, a mile or more away. Here
is another and larger "sag" with woodcock conditions
accentuated. Here such riotous undergrowth abounds
that it is impossible to get a shot when following the
dog, but a kindly providencu has located a huge boul-
der near the center, ascending to the top of which a
fine view is afforded which overlooks the surrounding
shmbbery and overhanging grapevines. Standing
upon this rock during the last season, with a friend
to beat the cover with a dog and to give notice when
he pointed, it was my good fortune with three shots
to kill four woodcock as they rose above the top of
the bushes — the only time in my somewhat lengthened
shooting career that I ever killed two woodcock at one
shot

Prospecting tor Woodcock. 297

Here we put . gmaU beU on Rex's neck and sent
him into the cover at random. In a few moments the
tinkle of the beU ceased and again we knew that Wood-
cock Rock was true to its tradition. Promising to again
revisn It on opening day we retraced our steps to the
farm house where we had agreed to sample some of
our friends cider, whipped up with fresh eggs upon
which a little nutmeg was to be gmted-funny-guzzle
water he caUed it-with our mid-day lunch. Her*
an after dinner hour was spent in living over old
experiences and teUing the tales of other days

Being asked if he had ever seen woodcock carrying
their young he answered affirmatively in the most po^
itive manner.

"Why," said he, "it was only las' spring when me
an the boys was plantin' corn we seed 'em do it. 01'
lige got a woodchuck in the waU and he made such
a tarnation fuss about it, yelpin' an' barkin' an' dig-
gin that I s'pose the ol' mother got afraid to stay
thar. r any rate John seed her fust and sung out to
therest of us to look an' we aU seed ol' mother
woodcock claspin- her young un to her bosom like
any mother would, flyin' off down to the big sag
woodcock rock you call it"

And in relation to the homing instinct of birds he
was not less prompt and positive.

"Well, yes, you know ol' cripple Jack I tole you on
las year. Wa'al, he's here again this year, he is.
And I dont believe he's such a fool as to try and
stay in these part;8 all winter, I swan I don't. If he'd
tried it he'd been a dead woodcock sure."

Old cripple Jack is a woodcock with one eye de-
stroyed and a broken leg that it would take a pile of

1 'I

398

Gathered Waiflets.

evidence bigger than Wachusett Mountain to make onr
farmer friend believe is not the same identical wood-
cook that he has now seen two years in succession,
and that after his winter's sojourn in the sunny south
he returned to his old mountain home in New Eng-
land.

The sun was now aslant in the heavens, and after a
day pleasantly passed amid old scenes and old haunts
that cheer the heart of the sportsman, we took our de-
parture for a leisurely drive homeward, with a com-
pact made and entered into with all the binding force
of signed, sealed and delivered, to be again on the
sloping hillsides and foot-hills of old Wachusett in
the early dawn of September iirst, with dog and gun.
— Field and Stream.

h '■

ZIGZAG EXPERIENCES— I.

THE New England sportsman, when planning for
a day out with gun and dog in the stubble
for the swift-flying quail, or along the wooded
hil.' iides for the peer of American game birds, the
lordly grouse, or along the sluggish brook, that winds
its sinuous course through alder runs for the erratic
woodcock, makes an elastic programme, having learned
in the school of experience that it is the unexpected
that often happens.

ZiozAo ExPBBiBiroEs. 999

ms piang, » difficult op peculiar shot may surorise
h.m ,n ,t« result and when a certainty seemed "r"
able a humahating failure is often his only rewln
^Vhat IS planned as a pleasant adventure may end"n
d»appo,ntment, and that of an nntowani beynning
may have a very pleasant ending ^

of amTriZf ""*''*';*'' "^'■''"•^■''''""^•^"'•'he want

UnTJt^^ ''P?™'"' ^ """ "l^^« experiences.

toSl T'°" ^ "■'" ^"'^y ••«'*»«- fr"-" time

to t,me, some of my personal experiences, and those

pathetic some marvelous and some ludicrous. With
one of the latter I begin the narration.

ton r^Tl'^T ^'"^ ^*'""' ''•"'« '» the town of Charl-
Hailoek . "' *"""' "' '^•''•''*'«**'' -»■>*? that

SiolV^T L"'"*^ '''''" *^''' *''°"^''t of suf^cient
importance to be pointed out to sportsmen, in his
feportsman-s Gazetteer," as "a good'place f;r ^uaij
ruffed grouse, woodcock, etc."

Time, in his zigzag flight, has made many changes
here as elsewhere. A growing army of shooters have
made sad havoc with the birds, many of the best cov
era of former times have been destroyed by the woods-
man s axe, and to others the "No Trespass " signs for-
bid an entrance. ^

Being invited to spend a few days in November at
the Holmes fann at Dresser Hill of Revolutionary
and subsequent fame and a good place for birds, a trio
sauntered forth in the clear, crisp and bracing frosty
morning air-Erfo.d, Charley and the writer-hold '
a quintet, for Shot and Dock, two as good setters as
ever pointed a bird, were also of the party.

300 Gatiikkbd Waiklkts.

We journeyed to the north and we»t and covered
quite an extent of country, making some nice clean
killg and some gcandalous misses.

We added to our game bags in the Mclntyre cover,
and after working it out, started for another cover
nearly a mile away. To get there we had to pass a
very promiting wooded growth of considerable extent,
which was posted with an abundance of no trespass

signs.

The highway runs along one side of this beautiful
chestnut woods, and on the other side of the road
is a sloping hillside overgrown with scrub oak and an
occasional dwarf pine. Turning a bend in the high-
way we saw, at a considerable distance, the old fanner
who owned the posted land coming toward us with a
yoke of oxen and a wagon. He was described to me
as a cantankerous old man, who found no pleasure in
life, or, if qualified pleasure he found at all, it was in
trying to make others as unhappy as he could.

Charley said I had better keep along in the road,
and while the hillside, which belonged to another
farm and was not posted, was rather an unpromising
place for birds, that he and Erford would take the
dogs along and work it out, and that if they started any
birds which they failed to get, I might get a shot as
they crossed the road to the woods which were adorned
with the no trespass signs.

Soon after they left me 1 met the farmer and ac-
costed him with : " A pleasant afternoon, sir !"

"Wa-al, pleasant or not pleasant, I don't want you
huntin' on my land. See them signs ?"

"Why, my dear sir, you have a most excellent piece
of woods there and I would not think of harming it

ZiOZAO ExPKRIBlrcES.

801
I walked

by walking through it," waa my reply
along. ' '

Some little disUnce beyond, the timber growth te^

what had become of the farmer and his team. I saw
them turning into the woods. As I turned a. jut to
pursue my way, I noticed an apple t«e in the pasture
not far from the woods, and instantly a partridge took
flight from underneath it As quick as thought I
covered h.m and fired in the line of his flight ; bu
seeing no bird faU, nor a single feather fluttering down
the wind, I concluded that I had scored a clean miss
Breaking open my gun to replace the shell flred
judge of my surprise to see four more take wing and
plunge into the cover before I could complete the act
Not an unusual experience to be sure, but mighty ex-
asperating. * ■'

Soon my companions were at my side inquiring
what I had shot at Being told the story, Erford
volunteered to go back and importune the former to
let them and their guest put in a few hours in his
woods. In the meantime, Chariey and I were to try
and get some of the bir.ls while negotiations were
pending even ,f driven oflf later, which it was thought
we certainly should be. ^

We had not been been long in cover before Char-
ley s dog pointed, and a plump bird fell to his gun
and but a short time thereafter I added another to mv
score. '

We soon encountered Erford and the farmer who
finally gave his consent, much to their surprise, as

er^I^n i /'^^* ""^ "■■•^ "« '^^-'''^d' o Dres-
ser HiU after a day of rare enjoyment and success.

!»

GArKEBID WAirLKTS.

The following Christmas onr farmer friend and his
wife were importuned to visit a married daughter in a
city some little distance away, and the young people
of th' ' -usehold took advantage of their absence to
have a, L n ristmas party of the young people of the town
at the old homestead. After the Virginia Reel, Money
Musk, and other old-time dances— and apples, cider,
pumpkin pies, doughnuts and cheese had been served
— stories, good natured banter and other frolics were
the order during intermission.

"Well, Charley," said the farmer's son," who is
your friend from AVorcester shooting partridges for
now*"

"What do you mean?" said Charley.

" Why, don't you remember the day that Erford got
father to let yon fellows shoot up in the chestnut
woods? Well, just before Erford got up to father,
your friend shot a partridge that came tumbling
down through the treetop and fell at his feet He
picked it up and put it in his pocket and as he thought
he might get another he let you fellows go on and hunt.
— Foreet and Stream.

ZIGZAG EXPERIENCES— II.

A PHANTOM WOODCOCK.

RISING high above its fellows, Mount W.chusett
overlook* centra] an<l eastern Massachusetts
th »l '"♦• "m ^"* '"tervenes to break the vision to

mo~\t L '"m" "'■'•''' ""'y '^^ «««" «' * •'loar <l»y
more than fifty miles away.

Radiating from its siJes like so many pnlsatimr

.rtenes .nstinct with life and running to all poin'; „'

the compass, are several purling trout brooks that »,.

ward the knowledge and skill of the angler with many

a goodly creel of gamy trout. ^

Those flowing to the south and east, seeking light

of thensingsun, join their forces and swell in vol-

ume, making the rivers known as the guin«po.x-et river

and Stdlnver, the conrtuence of which at Oakdale Z

the birthplace of the pentle Nashua river. Along

these orooks and adjacent hillsides are many excel

.dnt woodcock runs and coverts for ruffe.l grouse

Mast grows in abundance-blackbemes, blueber-
nes, partridge berries, grapes, chestnuts-and fe«
sportsmen m the crisp days of autumn have better
opportunities for enjoyment with g„n and dog than
those whose good fortune it is to know the cm . rts
and to pursue the wary game birds in these favorite

i ' )

1 ■{

304 Gathered "Waiflets.

Boston is not a prohibition city, and yet singular
as it may seem, she is seeking for more water. Al-
ready her scientific men and engineers are at work
binding the waters of the Nashua near its source by a
mighty dam, which is bound to take its place among
the triumphs of engineering, and which is destined to
be one of the wonders of the world.

Already our favorite woodcock ground at Sawyer's
Mills is a thing of the past; but blotted out as it is,
it will live long in memory as one of the best wood-
cock runs in which I ever fired a gun. Here the river
recedes from a sloping hillside on the north and west
and makes an intervale of some fifty or seventy-five
acres in extent, which is overgrown with a dense
growth of black alders and white birches.

The soil is a moist, black, light sandy marl that
Phitohela minor loves, and having natural protection
from the vicissitudes of New England weather and the
advantage of the sun's wai-mest rays in early spring,
no better breeding grounds can be found.

Here it was in the callow days of youth that I shot
and killed my first woodcock— the first bird that I
ever fired a shot at on the wing. It was an unex-
pected but most successful shot and one that I will
always remember with pleasure.
But that is another story.

It is of another occasion and another experience
that I am to write. On this same ground, some years
after, I had a very singular experience bordering on
the marvelous.

In company with two friends we drove to a nearby
farmhouse and put our team in the bam.

We were soon in our favorite haunt, which was now

ZiOZAO EXPBBIBNCES. 305

oar'^nrn^'" """-y Pla«es that to work it out thoroughly
oar progress was necessarily very slow. Many times
the dogs could not be seen twenty feet away, and often

therl . ri' '""''. ^'y'-g '» get i"to a position

the bird flushed and, without being able to get my

see Tatars Mr' "' ' Y' '"^^^^ "^ "^ ^^P"- »"
ee feathers fallmg gently among the limbs, and work-

cTeavtr ^ " " "^"■"^•^ "■'*'■ » butcher'I

wh?/ fl '?""^ *'" '''^'^ -^ ^'"'« '"«*«»''« «nd pointed
where he had secreted himself under some dead brush
and roots. Drawing him forth I found a wing gone
but not another shot had touched him

My companions joining me soon after, we smoothed
his plumage and admired his beauty. One of them
suggested putting him out of misery at once in a
humane manner, and taking from his utility box a
large chisel-pointed sewing machine needle, he forced
^t mto the base of the skull and then gave 'it a rotlry

resulted, when he became limp in apparent death.

Depositing him in my game pocket, we separated
and resumed the quest. Meeting again after the lapse
of a couple of hours, we sat down for a little rest
when I felt a fluttering in my game pocket. Taking
out one, two three birds, stone dead, the fourth, my
wingless bird, was as active as if he had not lost a

.'■ii

'fl'^ '!■

' )

•

•i
i

.1'

ao6 Gathered Waiflbts.

wing and the needle of my companion had never
made an exploring expedition to the base of his brain.
Companion No. 2 now had his innings.

"If you are going to kill a bird," said he, "there is
but one sure way to do it, and that is this way"—
taking the bird and crushing its skuU between his
teeth. More spasms, tremors and twitchings resulted,
and all again was ,iuiet. Again we pirted to meet at
the bam at 12 o'clock to eat our lunch and take a lit
tie mid^day rest.

I shot another brace and arriving at the barn be-
fore my friends I noticed more evidence of life in my
pocket, and thinking it must be one of the last lot of
birds shot proceeded to investigate. Judge of my
surprise when I found that it proceeded from my
wingless friend. There, thought I, you may talk of
the humane method and the sure method, I will kill
the poor fellow as I have seen fanciers kill chickens,
who make certain work of it by wringing their necks.
Grasping him firmly by his bill, I proceeded to
whirl him round and round until it seemed that there
was not left an unbroken cervical vertebrw in his
neck— and so I gave him another quietus. Returning
all to pocket, I told my companions on arrival of my
experience, whereat they marvelled much, and said he
must have borne a charmed life, and he has since been
known as the phantom woodcock.

We spent tlie afternoon in other covers, and added
to our store; but more and more was I suprised on
my return home to find evidence of life in that self-
same bird, nor did it cease until his beauty for the
table was destroyed by decapitation.-i^-orcst and
Stream.

ZIGZAG EXPERIENCES.— III.

SHOOTING BUFFED GROUSE WITH A OVN -VAD.

THE dog-str- i8 no longer doing business at the
old stana and the breath of Boreas has already
painted hillside and dale in aU the gorgeous

vntaj! f V '"'"■' --hilarating than the choicest
vintage of champagne-its stillness broken only by
the tread of the sportsman and the tinkle of the beU

wn:::;ir'' ^^*"' - ^^^-'-^ ^'- --^ -^

In addition to the good which comes from a day
spent in wooded copse and alder runs, and the many
fasc nations and varied experiences which remain as
pmed remembrances, a thorough knowledge of the
region and of the habits of the game biris of our

wemrained dog, wiU reward the effort with many a
good y bag. Evan in this, the old Bay State, one'of
he oldest and most densely populated in the Union,

Itself would be taxed, if told the number of game
biKls annuaUy killed within its borders.

But It IS not my purpose now to tell of the benefit
pleasure or success that comes to him who goes afield
but to relate another of the many unexpected and
peculiar experiences which befall the devotee of dog

308

Gathered Waiflkts.

SI .;

We had spent the crisp, frosty night in the hoBpi^
able Holmes homestead, on Dresser Hill, in the old
town of Charlton, and early in the morning a trio,
consisting of the two sons, Erford and Charley, and
the writer, accompanied by Shot and Dock— two as
good setters as ever pointed or retrieved a bird
started southward toward the covers in Dudley— the
land of the Nipmucks and the birthplace of Ness-
muk— the land of grapevine and chestnut— the home
of many a prized woodcock and lordly ruffed grouse.
We beat not the covers in vain, and the birds, with
smoothed plumage and laid in a row, won encomiums
from the farmer who kindly brought us a pitcher of
new cider to add zest to our lunch at the nooning

hour.

Swinging around to the westward to take in new
ground on our return, we encountered a hill of consid-
erable proportions, the sloping sides of which and ad-
jacent territory were covered with a dense growth
which made good cover, while the summit had been
cleared and was now open pasture land.

My companions, who were entirely familiar with the
locality, informed me that the cover was very dense
around the base of thf) hill, and so thoroughly over-
grown with grapevines and wild clematis that it was
very difficult to get through it, and to make a suc-
cessful shot therein was next to impossible; and they
kindly advised me to take a position on the top, where
I would get an open shot at every bird that they
might start and not kill, as they were certain to dart
up over the summit to cover on the opposite side.

I am not boasting that I am as young or light on
foot as once I was, nor am I denying that I was some-

I •'

ZiOZAO EXPEBIENCKH.

cause of tiaTn't r , "^.^ *" 'P'''^ »«■ "' be-
characteristic ofTodt? "t""" '' '^^-'"'y «<•
aceonl „,e thep ace of t^lf? t* "'""'"P*^'' *■="« *<>
know. But aU the sime T T T"*^'' ^ ""^ "-«'

L.r of their location «„/ . dogs, apprised

""'I "•■ ■"■"»-' ™ «"«. Ll"" "»' " ""^

came directly toward „. T ^V^" """-?"*'' """^
I ..eed not te] old t„^l '^^.^"^^'"^ *^« e™""<l-

Pinions or Of ;i:\i,rtr;;"eer'''*^^^^^^

dead bird began to showXVjf Ij;;*^^''^ °»-'- -^

>1nt5"':id'':ri?r'' ? «-^^« -onosyUaWe
«^ng as a precaution a' r '°°' "P"" "" -'"«-'«''

heeitothSiTLtfrrir""""^°'^^--«

t'oon another noble bird came njy v,a„ „„. ,,•

310

Gathered Waifletu.

-^ f

first bird, in his endeavors to seenre his liberty, fint-
tered and thrashed the ground with aU the animation
and vigor of a mature bird that had never been in-
jured. My companions soon joined me, when we put
him out of b's misery by passing the smaU blade of a
penknife through the spinal column at the base of the

skulL

Subsequently, when the bird was dressed, the closest
examination failed to reveal the presence of a single
shot or shot mark.

Square on the breast, where the neck joined the
body, was a circular black mark that was very black
and about the size of a silver quarter of a dollar.
The shot had been scattered to the winds, and a gun
wad had brought the quarry to earth.— Jor«« and
Stream, October 15, 1898.

U i:

■ "i

: i

ZIGZAG EXPERIENCES— IV.

A lUDICROUS MEADOW LARK.

Tempo-The sea fowl shooting season of a few yoars
ago. / "MO

^''ThM''*'^*"'^"" Massachusetts sportsmen of
which the writer was one

Sce««-The shooting box of Captain Andrews situated
on the coast of Virginia, south of Cape Henry
amid the vast regions of sand and water and marsh
adjacent to the Atlantic Coast, where human hab-
tationsare few and far between, and where myr-
lads of sea-fowl make their winter home.

THE stress of weather prevailing during the eariy
morning hours sent many visitors to our de-
coys at Shell Point and many a prized canvas-
back and goodly redhead were added to our score
wasTver' ^""°"'^*^' ^''*'«"'«^'' '"''' the morning flight
Soon thereafter my companion proposed that we
return to headquarters and exchange our heavy gun
for lighter arms and seek the scaiping, scalping snil

rcrsti^ir-"--^--^«^--=

Accompanied by our boatmen and gunners, we
divided into two parties, and journeyed northwal
toward one of the life saving stations some four mile

i;--;^

! .1

312

Gathkred Waiflbts.

Thia proved to be one of the days when I was at my
best, and I killed almost everything I shot at, and
made several long distance and difficult kills that won
the admiration and praise of my boatman— especially
a meadow lark that fell to my gnn soon after starting
out.

Meeting by appointment at the life saving station,
my compani-in's game bag proved to be empty, al-
though his ami.iunition pockets had been materially
lightened during the journey.

Candor compelii me to admit that this was a very
unusual experience with him, but he offered as an ex-
planation his impaired vision resulting from the seeth-
ing, cutting sand with which the air is filled, and which
produces sand ophthalmia, a very prevalent disease in
these parts.

But sand or no sand, he was made the butt of
much jesting and good-natured chafing, for wasting so
much good ammunition and failing to score. This
was persisted in until he became somewhatltouchy and
said that I had better opportunity to kill than he had,
and that he could beat me at the game if I would ex-
change routes with him on our return trip. This was
finally agreed to, each to follow the tracks left in the
sand by ■ iie other, when I assured him that if a life
saving boat was to take wing he couldn't hit it !

I had not proceeded far on the return before the
drifting sand had so filled his tracks that the trail was
as hard to find as the place on his now bald head,
where he used to part his hair. We finally struck a
bee line for Little Island, the home of Captain Andrews
showing but indistinctly in the hazy distance.

1 added several more of the cork-screwing birds we

ZiOZAO ExPKRIKjfcitS.

of «;tCn.Ws'; '"\"""'' ""^"^-l ^he story

eompli„,ented him upon the ]at' T""l '^^ ^'"P*"'"
I told him he h«l killed ^ "^ "' *''"^'' ^''''^'■

Not having killed a sinele hirH «„ i,-
proved the last st«w Ind h« hit .''".'«*•"». th"
had taken the meadow wt whieu\"", ^f "'""' '
hoars before from J„ ^ '"'^ *""" several
gn'Bping th7'bS"th7DoT '' "'"''™'" ^"''1 h^.
an<I think he is a Jrelf «h ! 'u'""'' *"" ^'« '^"^-
of Extra Dr^ thatT uT' *•"* ^ '^'^ ^"^ » bottle
throw it upTnto 1 L"" ' *"' ^'"'^ ^-"^ ''>"' ^vhen I

v^-oX''m^o::t:;s\f7jn "•-'"' ^^^^ *^-«

much more choice if thl .! t, "''"*' '"'"^'* ^e

He tossed the bird up whfin if ;™ ,- .
^ng and struck a li^htnt J . "^mediately took
Carolina. I thretS 1, "^Z""' ^"'"^ ^""""^ ^"''h
'veil I thought asT ^Ir 1°. ^^ '^""^^"'^ ''^^^^'^ as
bang! -^^'ZJ'^J^"'"'' '° ""^ W«'-d
know that bird is going yet ' '" ^" "' ^

the'^Xv^it:.?;;!?^'; . ^^^^ '^'«' p-^* ^o-

**' ^nd A<reom, February 25, 1899.

\ i

ZIGZAG EXPERIENCES— V.

AN UNKXPBCTKU F.NCOUSTER WITH FIBKR ZIBETHICU8.

YOUTH and early manhood have long since left
our schoolboy days in the distant past, biit the
lapse of years only tends to renew and confirm
the lessons learned in the little old weatherbeaten
school house beside the country road.

We turn a retrospective glance and behold the plain,
everyday, common-sense system and methods of the
past have been blotted out by the transmuting evolu-
tion of the present with its lengthening curriculum of
frills and flounces— with its "swing of Pleiades," isms,
psychology and other irridescent bubbles.

New investigations, new light and deeper study may
have overturned some of the old teachings, but our
early lessons were so thoroughly inculcated, so thor-
oughly mastered, and so thoroughly assimilated, that
we And it diflicult to dethrone the old and to fall down
and worship the new— and in unguarded moments the
mind reverts to the accepted teachings of early years.
"You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will.
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

From our old leather-bound and well-thumbed te.xt-
book on natural history we learned that our interest-
ing American friend, the muskrat, with whom we
oftentimes sought closer acquaintance beside the

brooki and riv-r. :. ■

»nd «o cleanly in h , h/b hr^':r''' ' ^"'f'"*"-"-
the root* of the Jater 1' ."^"'^"^ *"''''''•

my astonishment a? da J: T P'^'''"«'- Jud^e of
-nmmonsoftherena.at «'»'«■> an-.^-erin^ the
fln<J a whole men^lne in.I r """f ""'' "^ ' '"' «"

»rin because of SeTd- > '"' '""'^*«' "'J "»■«•
bound to thV;X-S7a:^ *^« ''- -^'^^

wSais,'pS:rd:fai;f'^'^^^^^^^

t-atio acts of the' Srlt ' Vo; ^T"""' ^"^
«« i' I had the whole ChiZe E™n, ' ", '"""""^

every Mongolian was doinT.,- ^ "* "" ""^ ""« ""d
hi* own count.? But hlf ^ """*"'* *° '«'»"° i°
monst«nce waTin vltnd'"""''^ ^"•"^^'^ "" •-

had been JendinlTn th« '^'. ' V*"* ^"^''°^°''' «« »"«
vegetarian to tt^" ^ '^^^^^ from a

mixed diet, and so fnr^lh- "' *^'^''" °P«» «

tive though and^fi"f'"» ""^ ""'*'«' '"' "P*""!-
essary. ""^'''^ » "^""»" «* text-books nee

BioflL^Wed'r"" • ""1" -^ -« *'••* "-i -ncln.

S16

GaTHKRED WAirtKTH.

thereof, there are many other pouible ezplanationi
which ihonld be given due consideration.

Was it a caie of miiUken identity 1 Did he mii-
take the minnow for a floating pieee of yellow lily
root or a piece of parsnip from a neighUiring acuUery ?
Wa» it an accident * Was Mr. Muskrat out on a love
adventure, and go thoroughly BbBorbe<l in proapective
pleasure as to thoughtlessly run foul of the minnow,
and snapping at it t<. east it out of his pathway be-
come accidentally impaled upon the hook?

Aha! And suppose the minnow was the attacking
party. AVhat then ? Suppose the minnow was imbued
with the ambition of vEsop's frog, and that he thought
himself big enough and powerful enough to subdue
everything in the pond J Ah ! who will tell i— Forest
and Stream, May 26, 1900.

J .'

THANKSGIVING IN THE WOODS.

44QNOWING, come."

^ Our Winter hunt for lH\r.i had been
planned many months previously and all prep-
arations had been made for a hasty departure when
our guides should summon us, and now in the latter
part of November came over the wire the short but
welcome message which appears above. Next morn-
ing our party made up of Boston and New York
friends and the scribe, together with generous supplies

"=^ -V.OUP-

f-HltD OWtt o---^ »^

-BQIX^D

CBKIMU ... L.ttB TONCUl 3"

""-•"■Ot.t „ DtlHi „t„„T

HOT BlSCUlT-

- iE»'«>!,iaffir -

r.0,.,. ^p,^ t.«„cf '°;ors"i;r.r-'r°„rp"'"-^

-Ttn-

*iNCt,

-COFPEE- fl i-

- OLD.f^qDKOMtJ HUM -

CicHFif-rrL 'j-

I Ml

I ' ■':

Thanksgiving in the Wood:^. ;)i7

for such an adventnre, were beiofr Iiastily traasported
toward the mountain fastness. .>.' .K-irhwestern Maine,
where the beaver builds his d m tad thri Wdly moose
has still his home.

For hours we had journeyed away riv.ir civilization,
and late in the afternoon we arrived at the terminus
of the standard gauge railroad where transfer is made
to the diminutive narrow gauge road, its rails being
but two feet apart, and room for but a single passen-
ger in each seat of its cars.

Seated in these diminutive ears we follow the devi-
ous pathway of winding stream, climb over mountain
spurs, and HnaUy alight at the little station of Dead
River, in the forest, where but a single house is the
only habitation. And yet our journey is not ended,
nor will it be until we have gone into the denser forest
soma fifty miles beyond, where the shriek of the lociv
motive is not heard and the dilettanti do not come.
Here teams are taken for an eighteen-mile drive over
a primitive road to our destination for the night.

Before the sun appeared above Mount Bigelow the
next morning a buckboard with our party and supplies
on board took its departure over the unequalled blue-
ribbon corduroy, boulder and bog road of Maine for
the camps of the Megantic Club on the Chain of
Ponds in the Dead River region some twenty miles
away.

AVe had planned to reach these camps soon after
mid-day and our permanent camp beyond Mount l>is-
gah, in the Moose River Valley, the same night.

But the weather grew sunny and warm with advanc-
ing day, and the melting snow and previous rains had
so filled the bogs and worked such sad havoc with much

-.( .1

im^

318

(tathered Waiflets.

H :.l

of the corduroy that our progress was slow indeed.
It was 80 late in the afternoon when we reached
Shaw's isolated farmhouse, some seven or eight miles
distant from the Megantic Club camps, and as far as
it was possible for the buckboard to go, that we de-
cided to stay there over night and push on to onr des-
tination the next day. Shaw's farm is simply a clearing
in the wilderness on which to grow hay to feed the
horses and oxen used in lumbering operations during
tlie Winter season. It would be a very expensive lux-
ury to transport it in from the settlements.

As frequently happens in this northern country at
this season, when the sun went down it grew intensely
cold and next morning the ground was white with snow
and a sheet of ice covered the ponds.

Our guides looked crestfallen. The ice was not
thick enough to be safe, and to go around the shore
to the other side of the pond to the trail was entirely
out of the question, because of the dense water brush,
boulders, over-turned trees around the shore, and trap-
rock in places rising sheer fifty feet and over out of
the water. And besides, such crust had formed upon
the snow that the most careful, stealthy footsteps
could be heard a hundred yards away, making success-
ful still-hunting of big game absolutely impossible.

A lodge of deliberation was opened in due form
when the guides suggested that the trip be abandoned
or postponed to a more favorable season. It was an-
nounced to them that we were out for big game, that
we had proceeded too far to back out, that the weather
bureau probably had some more snow to distnbnte,
that we would await its arrival with becoming compla-
cency, and that the problem now pressing for immedi-

Thanksoivijto in the Woods. 8i<i

Hte solution was how best to get an early view of Camp
1 aylor over in the valley beyond the mountain.

Our (fuide of endless resource, Herb Heal, child of
the forest, lithe and sinewey, as wiUing as strong and
whose burden never tires— skilled with rifle and rod
grand master of paddle and frying pan, clear of eye!
and steady of nerve, whose footprints in the pathless
forest make a bee-line to destination— proposed that
he and Jack Boyle, a fellow guide well schooled in
woodcraft, make an opening in the ice for a canoe, and
then procee<l to chop or break a canal through the ice
and for the rest of the party to foUow after the lapse
of a couple of hours when they would probably have
a thoroughfare opened to the opposite shore. This
plan, being the only feasable way out of the dilemma
was adopted and at once put into execution. We re-
turned to the warm farm house and whiled away a
generous two hours and then embarked in frail canoes
and followed in their wake.

The ice was so thick it could not be broken with a
pole, and with an axe only a narrow channel could be
cut, so that our heavily laden canoes had to be pad-
dled with the utmost caution to prevent the sharp
jutting corners of ice from penetrating their thin sides'
and giving us an icy bath, and possibly sending us to
the bottom.

Going around a bend about a mile from the place
of departure we saw the ice choppers still at work and
a very considerable part of the task yet to be accora-
pLshed. We overtook them and were chilled to the
bones before we reached the shore an hour and a half
later. Packs were shouldered and the trail taken
along Clear Water stream for Camp Taylor some ten

320 (Jatkered Waifleth.

miles beyona. Ascending the etream to Ub scree,
w reachid the summit of the Boundary Moun a.ns
between Maine and the Province of Quebec, overlook-
?„g Ipider and Megantic lakes in Canada and many
miles of be""'='-- mountain scenery in Maine.

Our trail followed the crest of the mountains for
seve:il miles and furnished suc^ wealth o panoramie
splendor a. might well enhst the pencil o^ "j"* ""j
the pen of poets. But to human mind and human
sk IHt is not given to adequately portray such beauty
In loveliu..s, and fortunate indeed is he whose priv-
UegeTis to'ga.e upon and enjoy such fascinating

Tsome the journey may seem long -d -ugh
that the difficulties and hardships to -"^^"^ wUWn 1
surmount would deaden, if not ^^t^^S^f ' *^ .^^JX
able anticipations, and that fatigue ."ould duU the ^g.
of romance, but he whose ear is attnn d "nature s
^vmohonies and whose eye appreciates the beauti
ul and grand, and who has within him the heart
and instincts of a sportsman, has a thousand compen-
sations and the trip ends all too soon.
Ting over a ravine we encountered an enormous
track of a bear around which we gathered and noted
hat it must belong to an animal of huge P-po'^---
and all resolved to go in hot pursuit the next day. The
shadows are lengthening and we hurry o- J**^^-
say. tarry, but enthusiasm prevails, and soon we are on
the downward slope toward Moose Kiver.
*' Another mile and a half and we - "--^;^^;^
beaver dam now in possession of a colonv of these
^resting H"adrupeds, a few rods beyo-d -hf '
Camp Taylor, our haven of rest and abode for the

Thahksoivinq in the Woods. 321

next few weeks, hidden away in the forest and unknown
to all save its very few owners and some trusty guides.
A roaring Are is soon giving needed warmth, and a
cap of bullion paves the way for a well earned and
bountiful supper. Far away as it is from sources of
supply, Camp Taylor is not without most of the neces-
sities and many of the luxaries of civilized life, and
the spring mattresses and soft woolen blankets were
not among the least highly prized.

The fatigue resulting from the unusual experience
of the past few days was so great that an adjourn-
ment was made from the supper table to bed, nor was
any practical joker inclined to indulge iu levity.
Political ambition, financial depression, professional
obligations or business cares troubled not the dreams
of the sleepers. The weather had moderated during
the afternoon and night and with the break of day the
camp resounded with the enthusiasm that greeted the
announcement that six inches of snow had fallen dur-
ing the night and that it was still snowing. This pre-
vented following Bruin's trail, for which, no doubt, he
was thankful, but all started out in pursuit of moose,
caribou and deer— the three members of the party,
each with a guide, taking different directions.

As the day advanced the snow fell thicker and
faster, until the great soft snow flakes so filled th.^ air
as to limit the vision in the mountain defiles Lo a few
yards, and at mid-day it seemed as if night was at hand.

It was a slavish day to be out and all made an early
return to camp, three deer having been seen but none
were killed. The storm grew in volume during the
night, and next morning it was snowing in such abiin-
uance as to shut out the view of a neighboring moun-

I ■: i

322 Gathekkd Waifi-kth.

tain peak not a mile away. It seemed as if a large
"all might be made by simply claBping the hands

"Stison^t .anted for theeampandaU sallied

forth in quest of the coveted game. ,, , ,

Well, 'perhaps it is not best to teU all the happe-
ings of that day. Some things are too ^^f^"^^
and should be kept as family secrets, and so I beheve
^y rtders will pardon me if I respect th,s cu«^om
that boasts a venerable antiumty, and give but a mere
outline of this day's doings.

...ecompaniedby my guide ^ had tramped up and
down the mountain side, and waUowed and iloundere
about in soft snow, two feet deep --^^^fl^'^^^'^^l
mid^lay, and was thoroughly fatigued w.th the exer
tion and wet with sweatand the vast quantity of snow
dislodged from the spruce and lir trees, now benchng
underls weight and looking like huge f^^^y^
mids, without getting a shot or seeing anything to s^^oot
Tt so I informed Jack that I was going to give it up

-Z':f^:^ one thing that Jack likes to a.
better Wan another, after pleasing his employer, it is
r:::Wehismantobringinhisshareofgameto^^^^^^
Admiring his ambition and desire m this, ""d ^emng
Hm that 1 could certainly follow my tracks back to
cip, we parted. Jack carrying the compass and 1

^tTaTme everything went well with me, but 1
observed that the tracks were rapidly growing ind.s-
t^tl snow was falling so fast, and so dense was the
ri cloud that no familiar peak or mountain top was
discernible to aid in locating myself.

TifANltsOIVISO IN THE VVooDS. 323

Hurrying along as fast as my «eary legs would carry
n e I soon am ve.l at a place where other tracks inte^

Bec.ted,an,l™ak,ngacloseexaminationlwaspu..le,ho
know wh,ch were mine, ai: being well HUert w'ith snow.
D.scovenng what seeme.l to me satisfactory evi-
<ien<.e I aga.n took the trail and hurried on. Feelin .
entirely con«dent I journeyed on and on until I «;.
countered a bluff an.l a great windfall around which the

not been that way before, and that I was upon the
wrong tm,l and that when I returned to the place
where I took ,t all tracks would be so obliterated thlt
It would be impossible to tell one track from another.
l..Ke a flash it passed through my min,l that I would
probably have to pass the night upon the trail, an.l I
fel in every pocket for matches. Not being a user
of tobacco and never dreaming of such a contingency
when I started out, I found none. ^

Thinking that whoever made the trail which I wa^
following might still be within hearing distance, I
hred the signal shots agreed upon for "help wanted"-
but got no answer.

Oathering myself together I started back. Ilurrv-
ing along with anything but pleasant or re-assuring
thoughts passing through my mind I had covered
about three-fourths of the distance when I saw the wel-
come form of Jack coming along the trail He had
heard my signal shots and answered them, but the wind
being unfavorable for me and his rifle of smaller
calibre than mine, I did not hear them. Jack i",der-
stands human nature too well and is too astute a diplo-
mat to always say what he thinks, and so his innocent
in.l'Jiry now was : "What did you shoot at 3"

I', I

M;:

824

Gathbsro WAirt»TS.

,,,2 Mil. .. «.. Itob .b= b™«lly ..tol, H.V.

into camp the very personification of desponae y

"Luf-B very tacit„i-n and reticent, but after much
good t red grilliu. and cha«ug he was asked w ere
L had beenaU day anyway to keep un. » J - IJ^^*
night, he reluctantly and curtly replied. Oh, just up
there in the edge of the woods. • ^. t it

This answer^as so transparent and evasive tuat ,
became a standing jest during the remainder of the
trip and it found a place on our Thanksgiving bill of
fare by way of embellishment.

ThANKSOIVIXO in TH8 WooDH. 32ri

.'endiflff to mitigate the misadventure of the day
Harry made the best shot of the trip. Locating a
deer far up on the mountain side looking directly at
him he took hasty aim and planted his bnllet exactly
in the median line wherr cho t,eok joins the body.
The bullet passed directly tl.rough the heart and out
under the tail, the deer falling dead in its tracks.
They attempted to bring the (juarry to camp but
had to abandon it because of tlie severity of the
storm.

Ilerb and Latty went out ne.tt morning and brought
It in, Latty finding that Jloose river was not Jloose
river because it was turned around and running tlie
wrong way "up in the edge of the woods !"

It was still snowiug but with abated fury, and the
hunters were content to spen.l tlie morning liours in
camp enjoying a much needed rest; but two more
deer fell to different rifles before night.

The succeeding day broke clear and cold, tlie curl-
ing smoke from our cozy camp was soon lost to view,
the bark on the trees snapped u ith the keen frost, the
forest seemed dressed as a bride in costliest laces,
whicli the rising sun decked out with gorgeous, spark-
ling gems, and all were enraptured with the beauty,
stillness and grandeur of the scene.

Much as summer camps may be enjoyed and praised,
lie has missed much novel and pleasant e.vperience
who has never had the pleasure of a sojourn in tlie
wilderness when the snows of winter still tlie footfall
and nature sleeps.

As the day wore on one hunter and a guide, tlien
another pair, took their departure, and lastly the
writer and Jack sallied forth.

;12« Gatiikbkd Waiflisth.

Going but a short distance from camp, following
tlie course of a mountain brook ilown to a beaver
pond, we came upon a birch tree nine inches through
and some sixty-Hve feet long, that had been cut down
the night before by the bepver. We had encountered
many of tlieir cuttings almost every day but had never
before seen any tree so large as this felled by these
intelligent ro<lent8. Human skill could not better
plan to fall the tree, nor to fall it just where it was
wanted. The principal gash had been cut more than
half way through the trunk upon the side on which it
was to fall, an<l upon the opposite side a smaller gash
was cut higher up, fel''nK t'le tree directly between
two other large trees, into one of which it must have
lodged had it varied but a few feet either way in its

descent.

After duly admiring for some time the patience and
skill manifeste<l here,' Jack at my suggestion returned
to camp, procured the saw and sawed out a section
sliowing the cutting,and it has now a conspicuous place
in my valued collection of trophies of the trip.

The others of the party returned to camp with two
magnificent bucks and a splendid bull caribou, when
hilarity and good cheer reigned supreme.

Thanksgiving was drawing near and our chef was
instructed to do the occasion honor and to tax to his
utmost the resources of the camp. AVhether or not
he succeeded we will leave our readers to decide
when they have read the Menu, which was emblazoned
upon white birch bark and suspended above the table
and which is reproduced here.

With but a single exception, every dish and article
thereon was served, and all received due attention.

TiiAjfKsdivi.vo i.v TiiK Woods. jio;

frol... of L« tnp * Kvery incident ha,! an iu.Iivi,!,

overtax the patien.'e of my readers.

To sum up briefly our two ueeks of camp life in
e deep «„o„.s and cold of Winter was made uj .f
n fro u. and .nc.lent whi.-I, grew with the .lays and

. n tim ': '"" " """:' ■•—•— tl.e most'pleas-
ant time we ever spent in oamp.

Our unconventional life and unusual e.vercise soon

ea y he task which at first wo.d.I seem impossible.
The fascma ,ons of our environment, the absolute

«oods, the deheate tracery of the evergreens an.l
towenng crest trees, lent an added charm an.l ma^^
a beautiful picture of the woods in Winter

bull ear bou. Slaughter being the lesser object sought
our killing was much less than it might'have been
AVe en,^ea^■ored to spare all females an.l those killed
would not have been shot had their sex been known

bufwhfr '"" ^"" '? ''"""^*'"* lordly bull moose,
but while we were in their country of "at home," and
saw their tracks several times, the continued snow
blotted out at night the trail picke.l up and followed
during the day and so we got n.,ne. But this will be
an impelling incentive to another trip „nd will give
added zest to antieip^Mon.

Cheery Bob Phillips, superinten.lent of the Megan tic

preserves, did us the hon..r .,f accepting the hospLity
of Camp Taylor during the last few days of our stay

.,2s Gath««d Waiflcw.

.„a to .how bin. o„ .pp««i.;;^o' ^» -^::::-i:

.nd pn^nce, -^ ^^^^^J^^^t put upon hi. .houl-
T^r ''ie. o7 veni on weighing eighty-flve
der. two f»<^'"«'« "' ^^„ the mountain trail to

p„nn.i. and carry them »°* "J*' j,, ,„«« ten or

Z Chain of Pond, the l'"l«/ '^^'^i ^ hi„., and
, dozen mile.. Such honor. "^W""^^" j,^^ t;, ,i»tion

he i. .o highly P;-«\;t .f «ei ty he wear, a
know, no bound., but M. De. j_^^

decided b"'"P"P""^\''t"''17;ed"any a beautiful
„u, experiment, '^-l" .^^ ^^^ othe« may proftt
character, ■^^^"^f'^^^:'lZe,t and Stream, D.
by and avoid our mi.taKes.

ember 1, 1S94.

THE POETRY OF ANGLING-

■T i. not all of Ashing to fish;'

To some this
i'V ^^r:etran"ra;;;uble a..ertion, but

1 r.ry'^H.nowaccep^^^^^^^^^^^^^
pre..ion of a fact having aU the for^ ^^^^^^^

In patriarchal and -« J«va t m ^.^.^^ ^^^^.

was accorded -/«°7^\£ to earn a livelihood
tions then open to man in which ^.^ ^^^^^

for himself and 'W^^'l^f ^' *»';^ ^.^^ed localities,
added to the « ""-^/"PP^^ J^* Ifll, the seWsh and
The gratification of -«>■« ^"J'^^^XC then a. now,
mercenary alone prompting, doubtle.

Thk Poktrt or Anolino.

320

when higher motives Ho not impel, made the fliher
mon a mere laborer, where work waa an irksome task,
and whoie only enjoyment waa meaaured by flnanoial
reaults.

There waa but little healthy sentiment in an age
when might made right, and when it was the plan :

"That they should tiike who have the power.

And they should kwp who oan."

Of such a fisherman it may truthfully be affirmed :
"It is all of Ashing to flsh" —

"A priniroHf by the river'n brim

A primrose is to him, and nothing more."

But with the evolution of societj-, and the ascen-
dancy of principle over might in government, the
selfish and animal in our nature was .inielioratcd and
softened, and the wholly selfish whs largely domina-
ted by the lesthetic and sentimental— the vocation has
become an avocation.

In no direction is this uplifting and ennobling of
humanity more easily discerned and traced than in
what is now comprehended under the very general term
of sportsmanship, and in no subdivision thereof is the
vrail so well defined as in that blazed by the angler.

The older poets sing his praises and accortl him
honorable distinction in their immortal works, and in
the early dawn of English literature appeared what
competent writers and judges pronounce the leading
pastoral classic in our language, "The Compleat Ang-
ler," by Iziak A\'alton.

Overworked professional and business men found
then, as they find now, recreation, pleasure and re-
newed energy in the sights which come to their eyes
and the sounds that fall pleasantly on their ears, and

ijl
ij

.^30 Gathbbbd Waiflets.

who wiU wonder that the contents of the cr.el is the

less valued part ? , . j ^orite

the maple and the ^"« 7*^' 1 J Weep-
H. that nature ^^^^^^^^^n^^ - *^« ^P^

„™« liVe HTirinff 8 tnumpnal note oi juy-

Jh ..cha»p tapir.™. "••™i<'»«™^^^.

the meadow. fisherman hastens

The morning grows apace but ""^;^"«
1- i. „„ r'rnusinir a stone wall, wuicii i^o"
not his steps, t-rossing a ^^^

through a growth of mountain laurel an

Thb Poetry of ANotmo. 33]

birches, he sees the beautiful pink buds of the may-
flower peepmg out from under the belated snowbank
M If ,n protest to winter's cruel restraint, and as if to'

aUotted place m the sequence of flowew attendant upon
the ides of spring. '

Journeying down the gentle declivity, where nature
a little later will carpet the ground with beautiful vio-
ets and modest anemone, his friend of former years-
the hepatica-attracts his eye, and putting forth his
hand to remove some encroaching grass, a meadow
mouse scampers suddenly away in fright at the un-
wonted intrusion.

But the music of the rippling brook now claims his
undivided attention, and hastening footsteps soon
bnng him again to its margin. The fringe of green
grass close up on either side and the nodding water
cress in its peUucid depths tell him that nature's forces
have been at work for some time past.

He marvels at the restful murmur of the rippling
brook, at Its tiny wavelets and miniature cascades, and
he wonders when they thus began, and how long they
will continue. Such a smaU streamlet ! and ever run-
ning from nowhere somewhere-ever running, ever
singing, ever flowing, ever, e-.-er!

Our fisherman's rod was stiU unjointed, and his
mind reveled in the delights and enchantments of the
scene until he was caUed back to the work in hand by
the knding of a mink on the bank a little below him
with a beautiful trout in his mouth, which he soon de-
voured for his morning meal. It dawned upon him
that the quadruped mink has his counterpart in some
biped men who look not above the gratification of

t '{I
< 1 1;

f ■ ■ ; 1

9 i ^

■I

332 Gathebbd Waiflets.

the BelflBh and Bordid, and who respect not saluta^
human enactments. From lonK "^r^^^'fil'Jan
knew the skiU and success of the mink as a fisherman
nor could he withhold a modicum of admiration for
his diBcernment and good tast. in showing his prefer-
ence for the toothsome, gamy trout ,. ^ , „„,,

His rod is now assembled, the reel adjusted and
aw!; gres his lure dancing lively before him down
the Learn. He skillfuUy directs it ^"-"'17^
carefully restrains it as it engages >» f/ J^^J J^^
plunges to the pool below, steals ^^^fj..^^^^^^^
alonz so that no concussion or jar wiU f»Uo«^ ^""""^l
to dfsturb the wary trout, redoubles his best efforts a^^
the overhanging bank at the bend, in the open meadow
keeps 1 to away from the brook as possible, and
Sno^ allow his shadow to fall athwart the stream
S who Bhall say that our fisherman has not eanied
and does not deserve the beautiful trout which he so
caifuUy takes from their bed of moss in his creel and
I^ngelsidebysideuponthegrassintheordero^^^^^^^^^^^

• ;i,ot V.ia «ves mav feast thereon while he eats nis
Toly mea ot the'sunny side of the old abutment
wMch sustains the rustic bridge that spans the brook

^"SeTui'exerciseand lengthy walk result in a
fat gue that our fisherman woiUd call exquisite; for
wS the physical man gladly gives way to needed
Test the mental is as buoyant and elastic as in school-

boy's merriest day. Umitad to

The enjoyments of his nooning are not lim ted to

the conventional hour, and already the sun is aslant in

te heavens before he resumes his pleasant occupa^

tion At each bend of the brook a new panorama

Ax Opting WiTHoni Rod or Gun. 338

meets hiB eyes. Clouds of fleecy whiteness scud athwart
the luminous blue of heaven's dome, and the sontr of
the vesper sparrow swells the growing volume of mel-
ody that greets the return of spring.

As a reward of his skill and perseverance a well
filled creel is already his, and ere

"The sun descending dyes the clouds in crimson"
he reels in and turns his steps homeward.

Age has laid a heavy hand upon the friend of his
eariy years who gave him his first lessons in the gen-
tie art, and now his many thoughtful acts of kindness
return unto him as bread cast upon the waters. Our
fisherman finds it a pleasure to make a long detour to
call at his humble home and pleasantly while away a
reminiscent hour, and to leave behind some choice
specimens of his day's catch. A generous share of
the balance is left with a convalescent friend, and he
reaches home in the early evening hour at peace with
himself and all the world.

Who shall say that his day was misspent, and that
It 18 all of fishing to fish i— Forest and Stream, April
11, 1896,

t-y ill

AN OUTING WITHOUT ROD OR GUN.

In Holy AVrit we read of the creation of the binls
of the air, the animals of the forests and the fishes of
the sea; and in human enactments we find laws for

)k-l

I .

1 i

\ ■ -■
\

I-

334 Gathered Waitlets.

one aitj' " J „, „* tli« mountains ana tne

'° '"'"' .C.m»™.. with k« .i.M. fo".'-

but incidents in hia outing and the Kiiung u

*"ilr;S:%'spenanac.annt.e^^^^^^^^^^
the BweetneB. of hi. song, ^^^l^^^^oiTZ

business walks of life— as nnioi • ^-,i_tion and

:lin:s.X"=;in'':>r»- .itb

An Outino Without Rod or Gun. 3;i5

accustomed comer in the drawer of the cabinet • but
sportsmanship knows no law of limitations nor is
sportsmanship suppressed though taking life may not
be permitted.

The days of spring with their genial warmth and
bursting forth of new life may not be with ns ; the
wealth and beauty of landscape and pastoral scenes of
summertime have passed away ; the purple grapes and
ripened chestnuts have been garnered: and another
season clad in robes of sombre brown ushered in to
take their place in the warp and woof of the swift
pasBingyear;— these, all these and much more pass
and repass in silent review until some mind jolt
stops the machinery. The delicate thread of thought
IS thus as ruthlessly broken asunder as is the silvery
silken spider's web by a gentle passing breeze. Such
reverie, however captivating, is "aU beginning, all
middle, and end everywhere."

In this snowless month of winter we saunter fortu
at mid-day and we shall see what we feel. The sun is
aslant in the heavens and its weakened rays proclaim
that Boreas has buckled on his armor and is waging
teUing conflict The horizon is buttressed with murky
snow-laden clouds. A belated flock of wild geese fly
swiftly past— their not unmusical honking falling
pleasantly upon the ear.

We are no longer young and so make a detour to the
bars in the stone wall, and thread our way up the gently
sloping hillside to the summit of a neighboring hill.
The pathway through shrubbery and wooded copse
will revesl many things of interest, and the many
pleasing panoramas revealed from the summit of the
simple though artistic beauty of the nearby and dis-

f i

iJ, J!

I'M

Ij !

33fl Gathkrbd Waiflbts.

, , ^A ♦».« tidv homes of comfort, will

tent landscape and the tiay nom . j ^„d

hazel, that anomaly among shrubs wn p

blossoms after the frosts and ^f Vji^^^'Jf^ii.ge.

killed and denuded the^r l^^-^e of «1J *«- ^ « ^

,i,b .h. .tote .1 w r'~^.,l* r ~ «.» bii,

P'»^» '«»"'""''•;" t«nu..b .1 ~idl.b

gray f«r in a little clump oi .^j^g

joiced that no sportsman's weapon -"^ ^"' ^^ .^e

An Opting Without Rod ob Gun. 837
ing "»P»ation we reach the Bnmmit and our eyes
are gladdened at the .imple beauty that is ou« in

tte„r Tk ^'^ --Pl»ininK -ind, crooning a
threnody ,n the treetops, falls not unpleasantly uL
onr ears but the declining sun forbids us to ta^
V^ e must call again upon the rippling brook upon the
opposite side before winter hushes its melody Tn its
icy embrace. •'

We journey onward and downwanl and find plenty
to achnire in the brillia.t red of the winter berries
«.d bittersweet in their dark green setting of scrub
pine and wa..y mountain laurel, and the graceful trac
.ng of the naked branches of the shrubbery which

Juufr •" r"'""' P'"'"'''"'- ^"^^ bluejay sounded
his unmusical protest at our intrusion, and a wood-
pecker beat a tattoo upon a neighboring tree We
reach the brookside and seek in its marge amid a
groupof alders and white birches for our'old Lng
biUed friend the woodcock. He is not at his old
homeandwedee.de that he must have gone to his
southern haunts if he was fortunate enough to escape
ills ruthless enemy, the pot-hunter

We follow the brook in its winding course, by
dim.nut.ve cataract and miniature whirlpoo; through
ow wooded and bushy growth, over tussock and
through ooze, under a canopy of untutored grape vines
and riotous wild clematis, until it peeps out from the
rank growth and expands into the meadow brook, in
the bends and pools of which the gamy trout love to
make the.r home. Here is where the modest hepatica
.8 the first of flowers to salute the spring, and just be-
yond IS where anemone and violet carpet the ground
with their wealth of bloom.

I I

ii •

11:.!

jjgg Gaihbbkd Waifliits.

children perchance who have gone ou >^^ ^ '^^_
day and that we must hasten our footstepB. The time,

An Oiiwo WttaovT Bod oit Ovx. 339

like a Bununer 's day, ha. flown - flown as gently as if

a sterling took noiseless wing from a slender limb-

by Its genUe motion only know we that he is gone

We cross the meadow and through the pasture to

^rowsln"", '*"""••. ^'' "•* "^"y «»«« ""'the wind
grows in vo ume and smites the still adherent leaves
upon the oak only to be answered by their sullen re-
monstrance and noisy protest. The lagging wing of
he crow takes on increased speed asTe Lks^hU
home m the pine woods beyond. The voices of day
die out and as night approaches a hushed stillness
broods over Nature. The pasture is desolate and bare
and the few neglected cattle look disconsolate as they
browse upon the twigs or nibble at the close cropped
stubble. Day has departed and as e.ening gathers
a light IS seen in the distent farm house telling of
human presence, humble comforts, friendly assurance
and oflfenng simple welcome and hospitality which
bnng a realizing sense of good cheer, and the help-
lulness of human fellowship.

And here again is teught with added emphasis that
the dmne Imminence abides in the dark and sorrow-
ful places of life when the spirit is saddened and we
seem alone -alone, forsaken and sorrowful - when
the varied and pleasant flelds of life have become a
barren plain without a flower to give them variety,
beauty and fragrance - be it near, be it far, in station
high or low - and as night draws on and darkness im-
pends dmne solicitude enfolds, comforts and brightens
the dark spots even as the light sends out its rays
from the humble home, and a guiding hand to uplift
and support is extended

" Prom out the encircling gloom."

' fl

340 OaTHEBED WMFI.ET8.

.„»in T.u8»ed the Htile and regained our
But we Imve again P"««f \ afternoon spent in

beartlmtone, well eoi'f"*/;" "r Kun.-fi^'rf ....d
Nature'H lmunt« without rod or gun.
Stream, December, 1893.

THE

MONARCH OF BUTTERMU.K BARREN'.

^UTTERMI.K BARREN w^njadedur^^
K last glacial epod.. and U us tu g ^^^^^ ^^
•^ wilds of New Brunswck. " ''' , ,^„ ,„„i

colloquially Buttermilk ^arr 't ^ „„, „e

Barren it will be. There are nian> othu s,
Buttermilk Barren. ,„,„■,, the grandeur and

The chain of distant "'"">";- '^^ ^„„, „f ..,cit-
stillness of the surrounding * -" •,*'\''„;„.ifleent tro-
ing and thrim"K ".l-"tu ^ • .1 fe^^ ^ «^ ^^^^ ^^^^^,„

pWes secure.l upon *« eN " « ^^...^i,,^ „aven-

^hy. Fortunate indeed is tu N ^^^^^^^^_^ ^^^^^^

ture and ambitious fo ^^^ ^.^ ,p„ti,«H an.l

high art in repousse an. ' -^'^ ! j^, ^.^eolic name.

sparkling snow that «'- -"^^Vh not .listant past

Such was my «-; j^ *" ^.^i^.e to the solitudes
when the snows of winter fec ^^ ^,,^

,„,, «ent the erratic canbo n t ^^ ^P ^,^^,

whole extent.

Tl.B M„.VA1,CU.UF Bu-TTHWItH BaRHE.V. .'Ul

Buttormilk Burr...., like most other barrens is
H..U Helj. overKrow,, will, „tu..te.l spruce, gZrZ^n^
»"«l'«pel.v, the l,r,,.,ehes uf which ire ^

"Bearde,l^„i„, ,„o,«, „„,, i„ „.„„„„, ^^^^„ ,„,.^,. ,^.^ .__ ^,^^

iSlii:K^h!:-S'i;=-lffi^^^^^^^^

' "'"'' "'"«S ''clieiis H...I other arctic and snh

n. co„to,.r Butter,„ilk Barn.,, n.s..,„l.le.s « hu«e pair
.^e-Klu«.ses. It i.s su.roun.le,! hy three mZtak
lu ce.,t.al one pe„et.ati.,g ainu.st across the barren
""; ;"'">•'>■ ,hvi.li.„, it i„to two of nearly e<,ual L"

."■:;:/■; ;:;t;t;;re::;:,r;=-,:r;;

l.ml bee,, snccessfully ,,,„,. „„„„ j,,, .,„„t ;^-„ J^ ^
sha.nbles !,„,, g,.o„,,.,| ,,it,, „,„ well-ea„e,l roX of

;;;:o|r^,..^ts.,.„ „f th,. pa,.ty, the f.,„ ,in,ir:£:

"> law. Their huge ca.easses n,a,h. a weinl „ictu.-o
n- moonhKht, an.l their shadows silhouette.] up « " e

II, he of the ,n.Khty spreading antlers, he who was
the target of the shrewdest, the „,ost per.'is ent In.
sk.lh..l sp,.rts,„a„ an.l ,„arks.„an of these so tu" es -^
""• """ of all othe,.s n,ost .les.re.l an.l sou^t "ter

rffi

•ii i

'I 1

3^ OAtaute WAin*!*-

and of whom ittoort f.b«io«. ^iTj^'j^f ^;;;!;

roamed the .urrounding '«"•» ^tX^-' •«^'-
wigoathedl Here wa* a 'r"""" ^ hL,, m«t we

SHonfimTo^ f actotem and -P --^[.--l
(Jy in bU oft expreBBed »P'7^^*;« ,' J^ti^e.
wthout number — his Toyai "» ,^^4^

life, and that Bomething '°°'?.*''»° "*. 'tW. wa«
L t be resorted to to ensure h.s ««P^'*; J^^J'"
lly phoo-phooed at by my oompamonB. »«t knowing
?, -..nt^Lpts and whims of hunters and gwdes, 1

i«d|!.n.« .p|.ro.«l, P~"MW! " W I*" " " """

that united in ms person. u.^i' — andhis

* M

TlIU MONAHCH OK BtTTKRMILIt BaRRKN. 34S

man to he alone," he joine<l hi. fortune, to « copper
cokred ^ en„. in the wood,, and Lacky Dan i. .Tv
mg proof of the union. The national trait, of wit .nj
whrthel" 7" ^'T'"*^ '^ "■" father, bi;

mearo7 ll^^ ","'"*' "". '"''' P^-y^^K-omy and de-
meanor. Hi, won], were few and apposite.

W e are aU born but not .lead yet" wa, hi, freauent

tS t""*'"" ^"^ "' -^'""^ "••'■»« tl'-e-, life
Lucky Dan had been secured from a distance for

archof Butermilk barren were numbered. Casting
lot, for choice of location for hunting on the bamn ^
w«, the good fortune of my companion to win ami he
very naturally choo,e the leeward end. Somewhll
downcast we started out, my companion ancriuide
making a long detour to the farther end of the bl^en
o as to have the wind in their favor. Setting S
in the opposite direction I gave expression to my 2

time I was somewhat comforted and reassured At
Lucky Dan's "We are all bom but not did yet "
But travel cautiously as we might, a puff of wind
seemed always seeking an opportunity to annoy us
by speeding down the barren an.l destroying any
hance of getting a shot in the most likely places
^>eems as if the holes in the clouds were all in the

small?^".'"'"^'" "■" ^"'"^^ ^""'^ -"-k whe :
small herd o two cows an.I a small bull, that we had
patH^ntly stalked for a long time, caught our scent
Willie out of range and wildly dashed away. To these

j''^^

i J-

r :i

ill i

' i:

344 GaTHBBKD WAIFLBT8.

a,„ *. .tad b„k. a,. .»u»«. •"! *» ~.;»

■•'sr^rXta.* <.- '« -r ^T.

xiaviuft nearer to tne

Lucky Dan «"gg«« «J, f "/^^ a more attractive

which to recon^oter^ We had «««»« '^ 1^"^« """"
earry, we started aW JJ^/^^^^^, „,„by sharp

. „lg .h.t .« lr«» ■" *• 7„ ,. „,,,/„ „d

.,, u ^, l,i« verv eood counterpart, lea in

terinilk barren, or nis very gu"

the van !

The Monarch of Buttbrmilk Barren. 345
Neither the eight beatitndeB, the comforting words

llif- ? V"' ""'^ ^■""'"y ^''hool lessons lere «,
called just then, but but i [

Tension *as relieved, if my feelings were not wholly
assuaged, when I learned that my companio7ulaiv
holdiug, deadly rifle, had made'two in'effe t JZ/s
at h.s majesty, which tended to conflrm the generaUv
accepted op.nion that he led a charmed exTsten I

We had roamed the woods too much, experienced

f srer'nl-*"" '"^^^' ""' '"^^^'^ the' blended ;:p
of success and disappointment too n,any times to let

he untoward depress and embitter, .lllk^y
.ieparture that n ght to the land of dreams trying to

rttar;:;? ''"'"'"'•'^^'^^-'^ "-'-"" •'"™'-

Tired from tlie unusual fatigue of „„,. first day's
adventure, the following morning was well advanced
before «-e turned out to do justice to our coolc's ample
an.' toothsome breakfast of young caribou steakTrS
o..ons, potatoes an natureU hot corn meal muffins and
creamery butter, and fragrant coffee, that would extort
praise from an old connoisseur.

The morning sun shone gloriously above the tree
ops and not a breath of air stirred the mosses on he

no wfnd?"- r ."' ''' '''"''''• '^ "-'"^ *'-- -"Mb
llr wouw" *^r--«''— -^ '- massive antlered

" ith all the courage and assurance born of seem-
mg certainty we saUied forth ; but returning to camp
m he darkening shadows of night, we were sadly re
minded of a very old saying that is too well known to

ill

I.i i:

f - ;i

346 Gathered Waiflets.

need repetition here, and that we reckoned without

our hoBt-the monarch stiU wore his crown.

Days mied with adventures and pleasures rapidly
followed each other, but ever and anon the thorns of
disappointment-the damaged reputation of Lucky
Z and the freedom of the monarch-would obtrude
themselves and their darkening shadows over our
otherwise fair picture. To recor-l but a summary of
our adventures and pleasures, our successes and fail-
ures, would extend this article to undue length. I
shaU therefere blue pencil all down to the last day.

It is but fair to Lucky Dan to say that he was not
at all self-conscious and egotistical, and that he du
not proudly wear the laurels so generously accorded
to him. While optimistic to the last degree, and
hopeful ever, it was the optimism and hope born <.f
cKperience and observation rather than the unwar-
ranted assumptions born of presumption and igno-
rance. His frankness and hopefulness were as much
in evidence the last night in camp as they were the
first night ; and yet to none other did it seem possible
to add to the pleasures and successes that had already
beep ours-and that would have been ample for the
most exacting did not the knowledge that the mon-
n of them all still roamed at liberty, which gave
to us a twinge of regret. , , , i

Lon. before the day of our departure had dawned
our breakfast was disposed of and at the suggestion
of Lucky Dan we two "hit the trail' for tie settle-
ment thirty miles away, while the rest of the party
Tere packing the luggage of the camp for transport*-
tion by the tote team. We had journeyed several
miles before daylight and compassed nearly the whole

The Monarch of Buttrrmilk Barren. 347
of the diBtanee around the end of the bog when we met
a team, containing a man weU beyond mi.lJife, on"I

oTher HeT,."' '" ^'^'"^ ""-"P^ '" *"« wood's to Z
Zfl' ^,l ^- "' "* encountering a herd of caribou
but a short distance back, the bull carrying the mos
magmHcent set of antlers that he had Tver seen In

ab Ja haTf' "^r^ '"" ""'' ''"'* '"^^^ '^'^ ^^'road
to tl [.""I," ^.'"'^' *'''" '^^y ^^ lei'-'^ly away

termilk barren. Here was an opportunity not be be
negketed. Hastily taking a„ oW envelop f^om'
pocket, I wrote the facts of the case thereon and Tt«"k

way i '* """'' '^ ^"^^ '^^ "" P««^ - *te

stiinesi' ^"^'^ '"'"''• ^'"'^' •'''"•°' «'«'« absolute
Simn of ''' 'r''- "*""" '^^ «■«'•« behind a

thThL Jir^r" '""''''' "° " '''•««* overlooking
hour W ■"". , ' ''f "^ ^**"°*^^ "* ^l'** ««riy -orning

etiSintt im;'lT;e Thtd^^ ^ '1 ""^'"^' ^-
notyet^given waTirthe SttT/a^d^at!
practiced v,-.on was necessary to discern anything s
nearly allied ,n color as the quarry tL.t we werf n
pursuit of and the surrounding barren

toaZtTfh'f''""''^ '^'"^^'''«'^^°P-°'«d
to a spot on the barren a few hundred yards away. I

could see nothing of the game we sought and in a whis

per old h,m so. They are there-they're feeding," ^e

thtr wV C""'^^"' ^'^''^-'^-^^ I couldnot ditern
hem, but Lucky Dan bowed and bowed his head in

I fancied I saw something move but in another moment

« m

iji

■■I '

348 Gathsbbd Waiflktb.

I felt BUM it waa the swaying of a bush in the mom-
ing breeze. Ab we had the advantage of the wind we
had nothing to fear from onr scent, but as time huiv
ried rapidly away we must soon get in onr work so
aB not to delay the team too long waiting for onr re-
turn. , , -

It was decided that I was to remain where 1 was, as
tny position gave good command of the barren, and
Lucky Dan was to do his best at stalking to arouse the
attention of the feeding herd »ithont frightening
them away. He noiselessly took his departure dodg-
ing from one bush of undergrowth to another. Soon,
getting a line on the general direction that he followed
and with increasing light, I saw the herd pawing the
snow away and eating their breakfast. Their heads
being down 1 was not able to see which one earned
the massive branching antlers and that was just then
the only one that was interesting to me.

Lucky Dan had covered about one-half the distance
and was concealed behind a bunch of scrub spruce
from near the center of which had grown a fairly tall
tree, now only a dead trunk and limbs. He made
efforts to reconnoiter from either side but did not dare
expose himself lest the herd take fright and scamper
wildly away. FinaUy he penetrated to the dead
trunk and keeping directly behind it he reached up-
wards and laying hold of one of the limbs essayed to
puU himself above the top of the bushes for a better

"^ No sooner had his coon skin cap showed above the
surrounding bushes than snap went the limb and up
went the heads of the herd. Landseer never painted
a more striking picture than that made by the mas-

Negative Soup. j^j

.«^. h„a rt„ .1, „^„ ^, ^^ ^_,^ ^^^ ^^ .™

' ii

i ' I i-

NEGATIVE SOUP.

The immortal Shakespeare tells us :

:^ft expectation fails, and most there
Where most it promises."

pOLUMBUS set sail for the Indies and diseov-

^ «red a new w„rl,l ; Franklin toyed with a khe

and tamed the lightning.

The story of our adventure has nothing in common

-th euher, and yet it was as truly the uneVe^ted Xt

tl 1^

^r f\ >.i

• 1

■■f

350 Gathered Waiflbts.

happened. The consequences may or may not be as
momentous, but this the future alone can determine,
as sufficient time has not elapsed since the occurrence
to permit of more than very indefinite generalization.
The bright sunny days of a not distant June threw
their enchantment around a trio of congenial spirits,
who left the cares of business and the perplexities of
life behind and hied them to the mountain peaks and
sylvan retreats of northwestern Maine, where grosbeak
and Canada thrush trilled their sweetest notes, and
kindly nature perfumed the air with the fragrance of

summer flowers. , , .r. i
Dainty trout rods of split bamboo and feathered
lures of most seductive hue ministered to their pleas-
ure,and taught many a lordly trout the folly of dallying
with temptation. As in every well-regulated sports-
man's outlit, so in this, a camera occupied distinguished
prominence. As a moral agent it is indispensable in
this doubting age. It not only serves to while away
many a pleasant hour, and secure prized remembrances
for future inspection and pleasure, but it also authen-
ticates the story of the big lish with all the force of
"Sworn to, signed, sealed and delivered in the pres-
ence of ,

AU this on the supposition that you do not make

negative soup in transit. , . •

We had taken unusual precaution on this tnp to get
good results. We carried a large camera of high qual-
ity and four dozen plates, instead of the uncertain but
more convenient films. _

We had made negatives of the grave and its sur-
roundings in the wilderness at the Chain of Ponds ot
the Dead river, near Mount Pizgah, of the Indian girl

Nkoative Soup. ggj

NatanU. « .,„ „>» brutally n,„„ler«,l there by a .le-

rebellum, «e had foUo«e.l Indian Stream to its
•noun «n source and captured many of its riistenil^
cascades in their fnis.»t l->,„ u , K'lscening

break ,>v»r I . , , *' *''*'* *''«y un<^ea8ing)y

break «^er Luge boul.lers an.l send up clou.Is of finest
.p^y as they dash themselves down the JZI^
stde the dams of beaver, the lean-to of the trapper

^V e had p!uDne.i to make the trip out to the settle

ments.n eanoes,aml athoughtful member of the pa?;
had obtained permission from the owners to hoi^
gate in the dam on the hea.lwaters oAZ ^'tl^:
which materiaUy augmented the volume o wa^ ^^
went seething and surging onward over the raplaVd
boulders to Its confluence with the Kennebec

Our guides, being expert canoe men, proposed to
run out over Scammous Falls rather tha/^^f.;;'
nearly everyone does, and while they were makll

mirh""^''"'""' "•'''*''' "■""^'' takeabouUhiity'
minutes, having two unexposed plates left, I took the
camera and hastened down the trail so a. to have
everything in readiness for a snap as the fhLl
;hot over the faUs. I had coverTll t t^^^
tance and arrived at a point where the rive, maket 1'
bend at nearly a right angle to its former co^se and
flows directly toward the trail. Looking upon this
beautiful panorama, I saw a splendid doe'.ui t ,

I i'

lijl J : i

869

Oatrkred Wawliis.

feeding upon the lilypads about thirty rod» away.
She was to the windward of me and facing up stream,
and as my moecasined feet softly touched the ground
she was undisturhed by noise or scent

Quickly setting up the camera in such protection as
a convenient bush afforded, I waited anxiously for
her to affonl me a better view. She greedily snapped
the succulent food, first here, then there, eyes and ears
constantly on the alert for danger. Finally she turned
and advanced toward me, and suspecting or perceiving
danger she threw her head high in air, posing in such
artistic manner as would rejoice any photographer's
heart.

Instantly the click of the shutter was heard on the
still morning air, a splashing in the water, a white

streak vanishing in the bushes— and another prized

plate was secured.

Ilasteningon, I had just focused the camera when the

three canoes shot around the bend, each stalwart guide

standing erect and looking a veritable Triton; and,

oh, the beauty of the picture as they shot over the

falls in the morning sun !

Another click and another prize— worth hardship

and toil to secure, and that would be the envy of many

a less fortunate mortal

The canoes were soon beached, loads readjusted,

and away went the expedition as light and graceful

"As a painted Bhii> upon a painted ocean."

A tremor of trepidation took possession of me at first,

but having one of the very best canoemen in Maine,

with whom I had made many a hazardous trip without

mishap, I was soon lost to all sense of danger, and min-

Nkoativk Sopp.

858

utes^of superlative pleasure ran quickly into enchante.1

The guides had but to use the pad.iles to keep the
fra.1 canoes in mid-stream, and let them shoot on«ar.l
with the swollen and quick-flowinjf current

A keen eye and skiUe.l hand was at aU times nee.led
to steer the craft clear of derelict logs and concealed
boulders which made powerful ed.iies that would
•luiclcly swamp a canoe in unskilled han.is. Rapidly
travelling without effort, the oscillation of the canoe
as It rode the swells and smoothly glided to lower lev-
els, It seemed as if we were borne through space, in
the kindly arms of some mighty giant, «n,l uncon-
sciously I reveled in the many pleasant sensations
evoked by the varied experiences of tlie past feu-
weeks, and exulted over the many and varied pictur-
esque and novel subjects which my forty-eight plates
would enable me to share with my frien.Js at home

Again my thoughts would turn to other days and
other themes, and pleasure came in recaUing the fact
that down this very stream plowed the canoe of the
red man bearing the sainted Fr. Druillettes on his
mission of Christianity and civilization to the Abena-
kis 250 years ago.

Persecution bom of ignorance and fanaticism had
destroyed the missions along the coast and driven
hence the devoted missionaries, and the dusky sons of
the forest were unconsolable. A deputation was Anally
sent to Quebec in 104(!, which returned with the be-
loved black-gown, who erected his mission cross at
iNomdgewock where he made his home for several
years. He was the first white man wlio ever crossed
the trackless forest from Quebec to central Maine

: I i

Oathkrko Waiflbts.

Hi» ascetic form Beamed to ri»e before ns, and the
gongbing of the snmmer breeze in the tree-tops seemed
as the dying cadence of his Ave Marit Stella.

And anon the martial mnsic of fife and dram, tlie
stern command and noisy bustle of the forces of the
Continental Army under Benedict Arnold, which labo-
riously urged their crade batteaus against this self-same
current en route to attack Quebec, seemed to break in
as a note of discord as it must have done more than
a hundred years ago.

And again the words of Byron seemed wedded to
the scenes and surroundings :

"How often we forget all time when lone.
Admiring nature's universal throne,
Her woods, her wilds, her waters — the intense
Reply of hers to our intelligence."

Onward we sped as a feather through space and
pleasure kept pace with our speed. Delight grew
with our progress, little dreaming we that

"Violent delights have violent ends."

I noticed that the canoe some hundred or more
yards in advance made a detour and hugged the shore,
and soon the reason was obvious. A huge boulder
lay concealed beneath the surface, and the water foam-
ingabout andabove it made great eddies on either side.
My guide did not make sufficient allowance for their
volume and force, and soon we were caught in the
trough, and over we went in an instant.

"Look out!" shouted my guide, but before a sound
fell upon my ears we were floundering about in the
water — duffle, camera, plates and all !

NkOATIVB SoPP. g,r,5

.h "V!lV\*M *'"' '*'""'' ""W on t" the canoe'"

Prij ;^th/. "'■"'"I*'" "^ P'"*""- 'J^' the
boTo J *"" '""'^ '""^^ '^«"' l-'-'"^ '» the

HhoMhfl* '1"""' *'"' "'"'"°'' »PP««1- bat away

i tie othir """V"™"*-' the attention of those

n the other eanoes an.l they came qnickly to the res-

c«e-o„r canoe being capture,! and 'returned to ua2

tliose in advance. '

ment t hUt "^ ""^ ^''^'^^'■"•t""'^ "f our environ-
ment, its history, poetry and sentiment. Our spirits

t^mi'" rr ''"'"P''"^''' -"(Tination reS

itil i? H '°'*^*"«'*' ^° "« '«-"-'l«<l to the
ntihtarian and prosaic. Wonid Satmo Oqua.sa or

atftrifr""'!: '""^ *'« ^«'- of 'h^r Vd

and turn It to good account? Would their saites
assemble, n intellectual convention, and with b3
ng erudition discuss the action of light upon ZZ-

InlT:^ '":;•!!' ''"'' ^'"'^ *''«- '» " dark Z
in the depths and develop them only to have some

Would th/n "•'? *'^ "'*^ inqniry-C^i ftono"
Would the inteUeetual triumph over the base and sel-
fish ? AVould the future angler, when doing his best
for distance, delicacy and accuracy, be startfed n h

hend ,n the act of taking ,. snap shot at him?-„r
«-ouId he be able to relate to his wondering fr L^
on his return how he captured and landed a swim

h 'i <

8SA

UaTHKRKD AVAIFHtTS.

ming photograph gallery ? Or would all their porai-
bilities sink to the level of the gormandizer and be
RK'allowed simply as so much negative soup) Who
can teU i — Forett and Stream, November 28, 1896.

MY FIRST CANVASBACK.

A RKMINIrtCENCE OF SIIKLL POINT.

DURING the winter of 188H, Boreas in our North-
em clime had lowered the column of mercury
in the Fahrenheit tubes to 10, 12 and HJ de-
grees below Kero for gome weeks together, when into
my sanctum walke<l a friend of many years with a
challenge to seek a temporary abode in a land of more
ethereal mildness, where we might snap our Angers at
his Frigid Majesty and warm our guns upon the larger
winged game.

Having enjoyed many rare days' sport with him
upon the high-flying upland plover, the swift-flying
quail, the devious-flying snipe, the erratic-flying wood-
cock and the lordly ruffed grouse, it had long been
my ambition, as it had many times been his privilege,
to try conclusions with the sea-fowl of the Atlantic
coast. The talk resulted in the almost immediate pur-
chase of tickets for the "Sunny South."

Arriving in Norfolk before noon, we took the Vir-
ginia Beach railroad to the Princess Anne, where we

My Firht Canvahback. S.r.y

.JuadrapedH, wheels, board., .Oming and rope, for power
and vehicle, and with such a Jehu ford Z, us .ildelt
imagination never pictured.

The dozen or Hfteen mile, from fi,. ,,„■ .1 „, ,,r
;le«t,nat,on ■« a barren coast, evinei,, - „., sip, „,■ . i,;
.».tion or hfe except about the 8t«t, ,„ , .,f t!,,. , s
^oast Guar.!, which are some four . ,• live mi.l .. ..p,.n
Hulks of wrecks and drift, an oc<„.,i„na] .Uu,Jl^.
.ut deserted, now and then a disused «i.,i„,iu in „
-hBtance, Us i.lle arms outstretched as if i. n,„„ ";:
from bygone t,mes to the present; eagles ...nugTu
he air or perche,! upon the telegraph poles of^the
hfe.sav.ng serv.ce are the only companions of the
tnp, save the ceaseless roar and murmur of ocean's
billows as they sing their mournful dirge as a fittin,^
requiem over the graves of the many casTaways 'Use
bones he beaching beneath the sands of the shorl
yth only a broken spar driven into the sand to mark
their last resting place.

Amved at Little Islan.I, Capt. Andrews' voice rang
oat a cheery welcome to my frien.I, whose advent
though unexpected was none the les welcome and
whose gun in these parts ha,I many times prevLs y
rung out the death kneU of many a noble bird. " Ve
tun. m ear yarn! are soon lost in pleasant dreams.
AVe seem hanlly to have been asleep at all when
aroused from our slumbers by the ringing voice of
the Captain, "All hands ahoy - Rousin^g noreaster!"

lubbXTsr " ' '""' '''' """^'-^ ''-»- "f '- ^-.'
A hasty toilet and breakfast, and soon the gunner.

358

Gathered Waiflkts.

! 'f

weU bundled in the bow, and boatman at the oars,
were (juietly making their way to Shell Point, sev-
eral miles distant, long before the first glimmer of
daybreak appeared on the eastern horizon. Point
reached, decoys put out, boat beached among the
cane, gunner and boatman in readiness in an exceedingly
comfortable blind anxiously await in silence the ad-
vent of the first callers. The dark, rolling clouds had
scarcely begun to lift, giving evidence of daybreak,
when the keen and practical eye of ray boatman dis-
covered in the distance a pair of ducks coming up
the wind.

"Pair canvas , down, sir — mark south — don't shoot
till I tell you." Then began Ed's wonderful talk in pur-
est canvaaback duck language. Down crouching, elec-
tric currents making quick circuit of my system, real-
izing that the long-wished for moment ol years
was at hand, I breathlessly awaited their oncoming.
Eb's whispered, "mark east" indicated their location,
and peering between the cane reeds of the blind I see
them swiftly flying into the teeth of the wind and
well out, as if to pass our decoys in disgust, and my
heart sinks as I see them pass us by — but no ! Eb's
trained voice is too seductive for wisest duck to re-
sist.

They wheel, and with a whispered, "mark north,
get ready," he continued to call more impassioned and
earnest, and in less time than it takes to write it around
they sweep in a curvilinear line to our decoys, and
with an audible "mark east, shoot," the gunner is on
liis feet and the old reliable lo-bore Scott rings out
the <leiith-kuell of my first canvasbaek. He was com-
ing with such velocity that he fell stone dead in the

My First Canvarback. 3:,<)

water within two feet of our blind, although shot at a
distance of forty to fifty yards. Duck number two
wheeled about and stood not upon the order of his
going, but >vent like a flash in a line directly away
from us, and swinging around upon him I failed to stop
the gun when it covered him, and so shooting to the
right, scored a clean miss.

"WeU done, sir, well done ; no gun could reach the
last one," were Eb's over kind words of congratulu-
tion and flattery.

Ah! clever soul, weU knew that I should ha\e
kiUed the second, but his kindly, genial way lessened
nay chagrin, and his words of flattery were as balm in
the moment of disappointment. Thus was ushered in
our ducking experience, and many were the pleasant
and successful days put in with Eb and others since—
the memories of which in the meUow light of receding
years form mental pictures surpassing those of the
artist's most skillful limning.

Under many and varied circumstances and condi-
tions in many of the favorite haunts of sea-fowl along
the Atlantic coast, as club member and guest, I have
many times experienced the pleasures an<l success of
gunning for swan, geese, brant, wild turkeys, snipe
and quail, but none recall or awaken a greater thrill (,£
exultation or satisfaction than my maiden triumph in
sea-fowl shooting when I killed my first canvasbaek
on Shell Pomt—Forsst and Stream, November 14, l&b'9

f'^ I

A COONLESS HUNT.

«£v

VKUYTIIIN(i comes to liim who waits," and
the writer waited until old Time had
changed many of his raven locks to sil-
very hue ere an invitation came to spend a niglit
with a jovial party on historic Wachusett Mountain
in pursuit of the cunning thief of the cornKelds. The
invitation came from an old timer from whose belt
dangled many a noble pelt, and who, although calle<l
upon to till the seat of chairman of the board of select-
men of his town, couhl not forego the pleasures of a
night in tlie old haunts.

Iteaching the house of our host we were ushered
into a cheery (lining-room and were soon discussing a
tempting spread. The conversation naturally drifted
to the sport before us and the prospect of success.

" A\'ill you have some more of the roast?"

"Thank you, I will. The drive has sLarpened my
appetite, and the lamb is very tender and nice."

"Well, if we have the good fortune to get a nice,
fat coon, you must take it home and dine on roast
coon."

"Hardly, Atwood, liardly. I am rather inclined to
think 1 will liave to draw the line at coon."

A roar of laughter l)urst forth, and came the in-
(juiry -

"And what are you eating now?"

"Wliy, lamb, of course."

*. .^

A Coon LESS Ilrxi.

.".fir

" Yes, Imnli tiikcii from the liiiidquuiters of a fat
coon ! * '

Passing Hansom Uoek, of colonial fame, wIrtc the
wliitos ninsoniwl captives from tlie Indians, \vu were
soon on the nunmtain side, when Tige and Pomp were
cast oft-. We had not been Ions seated before they
Ka\e tonsne some distance away. A coon tliey had,
dead sure, and away go the party in i)ursuit.' The
baying of the dogs re-eclioes from the mountain side
and makes weird nuisic in the stillness of the night.
The lantern man heads the procession and the rest fol-
low as best they can. Xow down goes one and then
another, until nearly all have pai.l tribute to the un-
.•ven footing and the darkness, rendered visible by
the feeble rays of the lantern. We overtook the dogs
only to fiml that the (|uarry had taken U)) secure (juar-
ters m a fissure of the leilge.

The dogs were jmlled off and le.l some distance
iiway and again they are olf. The party gathered
under a sprea.ling pirn, and spun reminiscence and
story until called to the work in hand by the nmsic
of the dogs. Again the jirocession niovwl, quarter-
ing up the hillside, a long and fatiguing jaunt — try-
ing to the wind and muscle of the best. Coming lip
to them we lind the ,logs tearing around through
dense sjHwnwood (Kiihuia r„(tlf„li,i ), (lirough which
runs quite a large brook — but coon saw we none. The
knowing ones claimed that Mr. Coon, being hot
pres.scd. took to the water for some distance to
throw the ,logs olf the seent, and tliat he enu-rged
into such dense thicket that the dogs could not folh.w.
It was decided to cast olf the .logs in a different
'lirection and start a new Irail. The wind meanwhile

V )

i i

362

Oatbebed Waiflets.

bad veered again into the west and the full moon
rolled out from a bank of cloud and lent an added
charm to the night. Again the group formed under
the sheltering boughs, and quickly sped the time with
brilliant sallies and skillful repartee.

The faint note of the distant town clock, as it tolled
out the hour of one, had hardly died away ere all
were summoned to their feet by the hardly audible
baying of the dogs. We had not proceeded more than
a hundred yards before a ruffed grouse, disturbed
in his slumber, made the hills thunder with his pin-
ions.

One of the party in line with the moon saw him
alight near a fork in a limb of a small maple tree,
and summoning the writer, who carried the gun, he
confesses to doing the deed of death in an unsports-
manlike manner at an unseemly hour in the morning.
Gathering up the spoils we hurried on and soon en-
countered an old wood road which materially assisted
our passage. Soon after, the writer stepped on an old
sled stake that was lying athwart the pathway con-
cealed by a pile of dead leaves, and down he went as
if struck by a political cyclone. Gathering himself
up with the assistance of friendly hands he proceeded
to retrieve his hammerless breech-loader, which he
found completely broken in two at the wrist. No mis-
haps must stand in the way, and we are soon with the
dogs at the foot of two white birch trees of consider-
able size — one standing erect and the other bending
in graceful ellipse toward the earth. Here the dogs
wa.xed eager, and soon the coon was discovered near
the top of the upright tree. Getting in line of the
moon, he was clearly discernible by all, and he of the

A CooNLEss Hunt. 363

dilapidated gun was summoned to " bring the critter
down." Placing the broken ends of the stock in oppo-
sition and grasping the fracture firmly with one hand,
I cut loose, but his coonship was not seemingly dis-
turbed. " You jiit him for certain 1 I saw the fur
fly! " said one. " What size shot liave you in} " said
another. " Try him again !" chimed in a third. And
thmkmg I nmst have flinched through fear of my gun,
I wrapped a Imndkereliief around tlie fracture and
again took (U'liberut.. niin iind fired. " Hit him sure "
said several, but he ,|jd not " coom doun." Handing
the weapon over to the con hunter of the party, he
sent up his eomplinieiits with like results. Having
faith no longer in the gun, elimbing irons are strapped
on, a Colt's navy revolver stuck in the belt, ami now
<lown will come his coonsljip. The party forms a ring
around the trees, the <logs tearing like mad ; the climber
has reached the treetop, which he proceeds to shake as
If It had been struck by a hurri<ane, but the coon is
not unhorse.1. " Put a bullet into him," said someone,
growing impatient at the delay. Aim is taken, and
the navy revolver belches flame and thunder, but no
coon moves. " What in tliunder does it mean I " "Is
it a phantom coon ? " " I 've seen fur fly every time he
was shot at," were some of the many sayings of those
on terra firmu, while he in the tree-top had " put
up again his sword into its scabbard " ami proceeded
to reconnoiter more closely. Carefully making his
way up the small stem of the tree near its top he sang
out: " Well, boys, I think we had better go home. A
big wasp's nest is all the coon there's up here! "

Thoughts were not revealed until we reached the
team in the early .lawn .some miles away, when tlie

364

Gathered Waiflets.

chairman of the board of selectmen, with becoming
gravity, said: " Wan't he cunning, though, to run up
the bent tree and jump off to breali the scent and fool
the dogs! " — Forest and Stream, February 19, 1891.

A DAY IN MASSACHUSETTS COVEBS.

RESPONDING to a growing healthy sentiment
tlie Solons of the old Bay State have, from
time to time, shortened the open season when
the game birds m.iy legally be reduced to possession.
The older generation of sportsmen can well remember
when the shooting of woodcock and upland plover
was permitted during the sweltering weather of July,
and of rutted grouse and quail soon after.

The army of sportsmen has been so rapidly re-
cruited in recent times, firearms perfected and ren-
dered more destructive, and the number of bird dogs
multiplied and more highly developed, that the more
conservative and thoughtful welcome every measure
that limits the wholesale destruction and extermina-
tion of our game birds and insures their conservation
to coming generations.

The heats of summer time have passetl; the half-
fledged birds that were sought and cruelly slaughtered
in former tim.'s have now reaehetl maturity, and are
strong of wins; the crisp frosts of autumn stimulate

A Day in Massachusetts Covers.

365

renewed energy and impart such a glorious coloring
to hillside and landscape as the famed pencil of Rem-
brandt never equalled ; and the sportsmen of the old-
est settled State in New England rejoice and are glad
that October now murks the opening of the gunning
season for upland game birds.

Although thi.s State has been settled nearly three
hundred years, and despite the fact that its population
to the square mile is greater than that of any other
State in the Union, its wooded hillsides and valleys,
its sprout lands and white birch and alder runs with
overhanging grape vines, the abundance of mast —
berries, grapes, nuts, seeds and buds — all combine to
make such an ideal home for our native birds that an
abundance still remain to generously reward the am-
bition and skill of the sportsman who is familiar with
the haunts and habits of the game.

While upland plover, quail and woodcock are in
evidence, the ruffed grouse, here called partridge, are
more eagerly sought, and the sportsman who can out-
wit an old cock partridge, who can follow him through
dense shrubbery, spoonwood, blackberry bushes, tang-
ling grape vines and other swampy and woodsy
growths, and finally draw a bead upon him and pull
the trigger successfully, when he suddenly breaks
cover with a noise like thunder, and with seeming
lightning speed, can well feel a pardonable pride in
his achievement, and challenge comparison for endur-
ance and skill with the most successful wing shot of
other species of feathered game; an<l in all that goes
to stir the blood and send a thrill of triumph through-
out the system, the achievement will not suffer by
comparison with the deeds of him who successfully

366 Oathebed Waipletb.

stalks big game in gloomy forest and mountain fast-
ness far from the abodes of men.

But, again, the lengthened days of the summer sol-
stice have come and gone, and with them the light and
warmth and Mowers of •• -nmer time. The days of
autumn are at hand, »■ a tempered sun and gentle
breezes, mellow and 1-^ i/.ag, energize and exhilarate
like wine of rarest v ntage. In the early morning
hours with an old companion, tried and true, and our
staunch setter in his accustomed place in the vehicle,
and all well bundleil up and tucked in to resist the
biting air, we are a^ain on our way to old and familiar
haunts a dozen miles away.

Emerging from the smoke of the city, the country
looks drowsy ut first, but soon the early risers are in
evidence, when we encounter teams laden with milk,
fruit and vegetables on their way to market.

Tlie eye tails restfuUy on the dim outline of the
hills, and the lifting clouds of mist in the valWys seem
like nature's effort to lift the curtains of night and
arouse herself from sleep. The deep embrasures of
the hills are still hidden in the gloom of morning, and
the meadows lie in pluoiil repose. Soon a purple arch
is thrown across the sky, which a little late/ is trans-
fixed and rent asunder by pencillings of golu. Wisps
of elouiis sail leisurely across the turquoise sky, when
the sun soon after rolls above the horizon and dispels
the remnant of night and ushers in the new day. Our
surroundings were too interesting and impressive for
the common -places of conversation, and a community
of tastes prompted the tribute of silence.

.\rrivinf,' at the extensive farm of an old friend,
whose covers always abound in game birds, and to

A Day in MASSACRvsnTs Covebs. 367

which we had always heretofore been welcomed, re-
pulsive signs, " No Trespassing, Under Penalty of the
Law," greeted our vision and aroused us from our rev-
eries—the first foul blot of the day upon the fairest
of pictures — the overthrowing of the ideal and the
enthronement of the real.

Arriving at the home of our farmer friend, we
found him cmpl." il husking corn in his barn. An-
swering his cheery '• good morning " in kind as best
we could, we expressed our regret that he had found
it necessary to post his farm so as to exclude Italians
««d other foreigners from the city and the Metropoli-
tan water works, wheiv many hundreds of them were
employed.

Much to our surprise, he told us that the Italians
and otlier foreigners had given him no trouble, but
that degraded and worthless specimens of humanity
from the city, some of whom traced their ancestry way
back to the Mayflower, had run over his place Sundays
as well as Mondays, cut his barbed-wire fencing, threw
down his stone walls, besides doing other damage:
that wlien he remonstrated with them they were saucy,
vulgar, profane, and treated him with abase and con-
tumely. They finally became so obnoxious and un-
bearable that he tlireatened them with arrest for
violating the Sumlay laws of the State, when they
departed down through some sprout and pasture land
where he heard the discliarge of firearms. Missing one
of his cows from the herd that night, he sought and
found her the next day, in the direction whence the
degenerates had taken their departure and from
whence came the sound of firearms, shot to death.
Offering the expression of our regrets for such gross

:!fi8

O.VTIIEBEll WaIKI.ITS.

iiiipropriotii's us wore dealt out to him, und regrets for
liis I0.SS, he very warmly, with ol.l-time cordiality, bade
UH welcome and wished us every pleasure and success.
OariiiK for our team, we decided to try the two-acre
swale, so called, over the kuoU back of the barn. This
patch of ground, more iiuirsh than solid earth, lay in
a smishiny hollow Ix-tween the hills, und was over-
grown witii a riotous profusion of shrubbery und grape
vines. On the further side was arable laml, flanked
with a sugar loaf knoll rising a few hundred feet in
the air, arouml the base of which, to the woods be-
yond. Hew any birds that were flushed and which wore
fortunate enough to escape.

My companion took his accustomeil position on the
outside, when I essayed to work my way through tin-
dense undergrowth. 1 made but little progress when
the tinkling of the bell of Ke.\ ceased and told the
story that he was on point. Being situateil where it
wasinipossible for me to shoot, I called out " point "
— when, with the noise of muffled tliunder, out went a
covey of five birds, giving ray companion an oppor-
tunity to make an easy double, the renminder seeking
safety in the woods beyond the hill.

" This is ahuost too much like butchery," said he,
" but being so early in the day, and not knowing what
our chances may b" Ui». r, 1 was tcmipted to <lo it.
Now, let me follow the dog and you take the out-
side."

Thanking him for his courtesy, and assuring him
that few places in the State were so sure to hohl birils,
and that none couhl be more favorable for their cap-
ture, and that we should have to work hard for any
more than we might get, 1 insisted on working the

A Day ih Massachunktts Covkbs. 869
cov«r and giving him the benefit of the saccem that
w-a. already onr,, I ordered Rex on. FaithfnUy an.l
honrnghly 1,^ covered the ground, challenging .11
likely pl«.-«s, hut without avail. Slowly and carefully
we worked our way through the den«e and tangled
undergrowth out towar.I the further end where it nar-
rowed toa point Clamberingovera lotof smallstone,
atthe edge of the cover, that ha.l been gathered in
from the adjom.ng field. 1 was on their summit when
the bell again ceased to tinkle. This my companion
announced when two more partri.lge broke cover near
me with all their startling abruptness, and in „ curving
fl-ht started like a fiash for the woods beyond the hill
Hastily drawing bea.l upon the foremost, I pulled trig!
ger at the moment a rolling stone gave way beneath
my foot, I score.! a clean miss, but the last fell at a very
considerable distance to a more careful aim. Crossing
over to the woods beyon.l the hill, the careful and
thorough working of the dog not only gave us pleas-
"re, but also numerous shots without ad.iing to the
number of birds in our game pockets. For this we
found many reasons besides the true one, doubtless-
indifferent marksmanship-and consoled ourselves that
we did not want all the birds ; that we already had a
brace, and that

The partridge shot at that fles away
Lives to be shot at another day.
Returning to the farm house at noon to care for our
horse and to eat our lunch, we found the animal cared
for and a dinner already prepared for us in the house
Accepting the hospitality of our host, two hungry
sportsmen did full justice to the ample New England
ilinner so generously provided.

MlCtOCOPV RESOLUTION TEST CHART

(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2)

1.0 IfK 1^

1^
1^

I.I

\121 1111114

-APPLIED IIVMGE

370

Gathered Waiflets.

i- ",

The shortened antumn day prevented any length-
ened interchange of courtesies, and we soon turned
our steps toward the birch and alder run beside a well-
known trout brook, where woodcock make their home.
In less time than it takes to write it, after arriving on
the ground. Rex at command flushed a plump bird that
fell an easy shot to my gun. Working carefully down
the run some distance, my companion heard an unusual
noise and asked me if I did not hear it. Being answered
in the negative, we continued our quest a little longer,
when sobbing, intermingled with comforting words,
was heard as a note of discord and sadness where all
else was harmony and joy.

Following the direction whence came the sound, we
were soon near two little girls, one of whom was cry-
ing and sobbing as if her heart would break, and her
companion vainly endeavoring to assuage her grief and
comfort her in her sorrow. This picture of sadness in
the early spring time of life touched a responsive chord
and emphasized the story of the good Samaritan. We
soon learned the story that Mamie's little sister was
dead and that they had come to the brookside from
neighboring farmhouses to get some wild flowers to
put on her coffin.

Just then woodcock and partridge had little attrac-
tion for us, and, touched by the pathos of the scene,
we also offered such words of sympathy and comfort
as we could command to the afiiicted one, coupled with
the assurance of co-operation and aid in procuring the
floral tribute which was to attest a sister's loss and sor-

For a time the tears were dried, but choking sobs
too plainly told that the aching heart refused to be

A Day in Massachusetts Covers. 371
comforted. Laying our guns asi.Je, the sportsmen
essayed the roll of the florist. Making a light frame-
work of the dark tnigs of tlie black alder, we Hlle.l
the interstices with moss from the brookside, and
around the edge, nicely lapped the one over the other
we worked in a rowof .h.rk copper-colored leaves from'
a neighboring beech tree. Upon tins, for a foundation,
we fashioned a wreath of wih! clemn'is and maiden-
hair fern, surmounted by a cro--t]ie emblem of man's
salvation-compose.! of car.linal flowers flanked with
blne-flringed gentian.

The children watched the progress of our work with
growing interest, and the product they gladly accepted
as a burden lifted.

But our shooting for the day was over Our game
bag was not plethoric, to be sure, but sufficient for
those who realize that a day spent under autumn skies
along the hillsides clothed in surging billows of color
or beside the puriing brook, where the woodsy odors
of lowland growth perfume the air, are not to be meas-
ured by the destruction wrought.

When we reached home in the evening the same old
stars shone in the firmament, but they seemed brighter.
— Forest and Stream, November 18, 1905.

1- ^-" ■

lulu

l-Lii

THE MONARCH OF THE POOL.

i'l'

'I!

THE morning of September 13, 1890, broke in
gloom over the State of Maine, and the rain
beat a restful tattoo upon our camp on Little
Jo Mary lake and contributed to a lengthy morning
snooze on our fragrant beds of spruce and hemlock
boughs. The camp-fire sizzled and spit—the circling
smoke now forced to earth by fitful gusts of wind and
again circling up and losing itself in the branches.
The weird notes of the loon made mournful threnody
with the soughing of the wind in the treetops and the
swish of the waves as they broke upon the shore.
During the forenoon we snoozed, played whist (our
wives being members of the party), oiled boots, made
needed repairs to tackle, mounted some new easts of
flies— when came the summons to report at the dinner
table. Our stomachs always accompany us on our out-
ings, and we strive to treat them as we would our best
friends, and years of experience have made us some-
what fastidious in the selection of a chef. The savory
odors that had reached our camp for some time previ-
ous attested his skill, and tliese, joined to our sojourn
in nature's haunts high up in the mountains, had so
sharpened our appetites that we stood not upon cere-
mony in obeying the call. That we did ample justic
to the inner man and to the skill of our clief may b.
inferred when it is known that he said he thought the
only rule lie would have to make was one limiting our
time at tlie table to an hour and a half.

■i j'l

The Monarch of the Pool. 37,(

Da^.n'^f".*"''"^ ""''''^- "•"■ ^I'l-tim^ friend an.l com-
panion of former camna TI « « j i .

table and sang ouU ' ^"^^"^ "P ^'""^ *'"'

^^^'Here-s a go for a paddle to the upper end of the

Xo sooner said than he and the writer, with Frank
one of our guides, as a factotum, were oft

The clou, s roUed low, an.l Mount Katahdin's night-
cap was St, 1 upon his head. Spiteful whiteeap, brokl

Wen "'• r^r'"' ""'^-^ "' "•■"--- but beTo. el
laden we rode along ,,uite smoothly. Not evpec inl
to do much if any tishing, we had left all o oXS

uni r r'' " "'"''P '"'' *'"* '■'"' »>-" l«ft "n the beach
und. he overturned canoe and a few oasts of Hie
» hich we carried around our hats

laktt"" P"*""°S,"* •»»«' to the opposite end of the

tomed by action of the water where a brook

en ers the laxe, passing which we Hnd deep .Zr
ex ending back from the mouth about a fourth of a
n>.le, now broken only by gentle ripples. The vkth
var^s from twenty to fifty yards, with a foresfg ow
on e ther side and an occasional boulder as large as 1

rg?drr;:tr^^"""^'*''-^''°---'^-"b"

W ho could resist the temptation to cast ? The feeble
rod was soon joined and a cast made by Harry -a sec
ond, a hir.1 and arise and a strike. Ih.' and a Ime
boy ,s he. I grasp my watch to take the tine a' I
flashed his beautiful sides out of water. Co he
goes; out again! Down and off, and the pliant rod
>.el.ls and the reel sings a tune to which Pagauin
never played an adequate accompaniment

374

Gathkeed Waiflets.

It is give and take aud take and give for twenty
minutes, when our disriple of Uncle liiaak begins to
think it more labor than fun, puts severe strain upon
the rod and forces the fight. Hy dint of great effort
and much skill he leads the victim around to the stern,
where I sit, and as I reach out my hand to grasp the
line to lift him in, he made a wild plunge for liberty,
breaking the rod at the second tying from the tip, but
I grasped the line on the instant and he was landed in
the canoe and the struggle ended, when we found that
we had an addition of two and a half pounds of beau-
tiful freiglit to our cargo.

"A\'ell. yes I lie made a splendid fight, and I am
tired. You take the rod. Doctor, and give them a
try."

E.xamining tlie rod, I find it, like all cheap goods,
only "a delusion and a snare." The strips had never
been cemented, but glued, and the glue yielding to
the moisture h".d allowed the strips to separate and
bend over nearly to a right angle. Had we another
rod along this one doubtless would have gone where it
deserved — to the bottom. But we straightened it out,
split a quill toothpick and bound it firmly about the
rod with a bit of line and started down stream toward
the lake.

We had gone some distance without a rise, and I
began to doubt the efiBcacy of my flies. A huge sunken
tree which had fallen athwart the stream at an angle and
right in line with an immense boulder, which extended
into the water, turned the current and made a whirlpool
that looked to be a moat promising spot, and I did my
best for " distance, delicacy and accuracy." And, lo !
a rise ! a swirl of the water — and aU is quiet. I note

The Monarch of thr Pool. S7r>

that he is a very large trout and, losing aU confidence in
the flies that I wag using, I tell the paddlers to send the
craft right along to the sand bar at the month of the
brook Here I mount a cast of my favorite flies for a
dark day, tied by an expert in he art, composed of a
1 armachene belle, Montreal, and Jenny Lind for drop-
per, acd back we turn to try conclusions with his lord-
ship. A\ e near the spot and I redouble my best efforts
A rise,a strike, and right about face went our canoe down
stream for the lake as if drawn by a span of ponies,
and here we are, anchored to a giant, with a disabled
ro<l and no landing net. "Let him go," said I, "but
keep the canoe in midstream, and if he reaches the
clear water of the kke I wiU make a landing at the
sand bar and reel him out on the beach." We fight
minute by minute and contest inch by inch. We near
the mouth of the brook and I prepared to step out-
but no, said he, as he made a grand break and darted
up stream as if ho divined my purpose. He sulked,
and we thought it safe to reel in-a dart to the sur-
face, a break, a dive, a break and dive again Break
dive, dart, sulk succeeded break, dive, dart and sulk'
Minutes have sped along into an hour, and yet he is
not subdued. As we start from the rapids on the
fourth tnp that he led us up and down the stream I
avowed that it would be trout or no trout this time
when we reached the sand bar, as the fatigue that had
supervened had long since eliminated the element of
sport and excitement from the unequal contest I
gave him the butt of the rod and succeeded in .retting
his nose out of the water. He threw aU of his weight
upon the rod and the pliant thing permitted him to
dive well beneath the surface.

« til

.176

Gathered Waiflets.

Again I forced his head oat of water and again he
(love to the bottom, but with less strength and deter-
mination, and he sooner yielded to the pressure on the
rod. Ilis strength is failing, and yet he is game and
a very unwilling captive. We reached the sand bar
and I stepped out followed by the crew. The canoe
was beai'hed and I reeled in. The boatmen, each
armed with a paddle, surrounded his kingship and
followed him in until I landed upon the sand this
foeman worthy of our steel. lie tipped the scales at
.') 1-4 pounds, and, while many a larger one has fallen
victim to tempting lure and human skill, I cannot con-
ceive of and never expect to have a greater battle
than I had with this monarch of the pool, which was
hotly contested every moment during one hour and
twenty-nine minutes.— /^bres^ and Stream, April 30,
1891.

Ol'll TRIP TO LITTLE JO MARY.

I 1

«B'

JROWNVILLE ! BrownviUe .'"—and thetrain
came to a standstill before the little railroad
station of that name Down East, in tlie State
of Maine — the El Dorado of Eastern sportsmen. All
was hurry and bustle, j ; passengers with bundles
alighted from and entered the train, the hearty and
cordial greeting of re-united friends on the one hand
making straiij,'e contrast with the tearful, tender good-

OiR Trip to Littlk Jo Mahv. 377

byes and sad fareweU, ou the other. So it ever is ev-
remes meet, but the pilgrims from the old BaJ siaTe
JaJ no t,me to indulge sentiment as the morning w,

L. 51 Gen-ish, our head g. ide and c-hef, was on hand

V nn «f "" u '"";' ^'" """''^ "' *'- ''"J" -■>•
on. nl "■" ^"I-'-rtuities are left until our return

e boy, Nat the writer and hi, „!{« an.l three .„ide.

n^e Lr"' 'Tr """'■"■^ '"' ^'"' -■"-- '"- " -'
ne,essary camp duffle, were on their way «ith two

teams to Sehoodie Lake, some «ix miles distant

I here we boarded a rowboat «n,l a o.noe. Z B
^".ght the stalwart veteran boatman, who«e resi.lenoe
near the shore of the lake, ha.l been engaged to "w
th party to the upper end of the lake, ,,ml H.ht .ve

d he perform the task, rowing the eight miles in
on,eth,ng less than two hours. U'hen we pushed .ft
from the shore we left oivilization behin.l, but wha a
panorama opened out before nson every hand! lu
Leadlan.ls jutting out into the lake covered with raVn
bow4inted foliage, white birches like belated ghos ^ i^
boad contrast with the sombre pines, whose extended
branches seemed hke outstretched arms as if to give
us welcome-hill top an.l mountain vieing witlu 1
top and mountain until in the dim distance their out'
lines l.,oked like steel engravings, suggesting such
T,, , , "A pomp of scene,

J he noblest sure that nature in her play
Ut power eer shaped."
An element of danger was the enormous ro.-ky cliffs

878

Gatiikred Waiflets.

i i

and bouldeni whoBe danf^eroufi heads lay coner jled be-
neath the surface uf the water. We came very near
to paying; sad tribute to their presence by the bow of
our heavily laden boat — with four pasiengers and a
generous portion of the camp supplies — runninf; upon
one, which, but for the presence of mind and skill of
our boatman, might have resulted in serious consequen-
ces. "Keep still! Don't move an inch" were his
words of caution as he put forth his best efforts to
keep the boat from drifting around with the wind and
capsizing. Hut tlie stiff breeze and heavy freight were
too mucli for hifi strength, and the writer, who was sit-
ting in the bow, cautiously stepped out upon the boul-
der and with a lift and push the craft was afloat again.
A sharp lookout thereafter prevented a repetition of
the thrilling e.xperience. Lauding was made soon
after mid-day, a hearty lunch partaken of, and the
procession moved forward on its march of a dozen
miles along an old tote road through an unbroken
wilderness — a journey we were informed that no lady
had ever undertaken before.

A staunch team bad been provided over which Steve
Thomas, a backwoods character, if not a genius, held
the reins. Words would make but a poor showing
were they used as they Vtest might be in an attempt
to give an adequate description of the voyage, for cer-
tainly the vehicle in its ups and downs over stump
and boulder, over hillock and slough and rickety cor-
duroy, more nearly resembled a craft on a turbulent
and tempest-tossed ocean than any organization on
wheels on terra flrma. But our Jehu was a character,
and in addition to his exceeding care in the manage-
ment of his team, his keen wit, droll humor, and skill-

OfB Trip to Littlk J,> JIarv. H7!t

ful repartee kept the ladies in a roar of Inu^hter
wh-h, combine.! with the novelty of the e.xnerien..e
reL 3r«.l thu not among the leant enjoyable features
of ...e trip. On Koing through an unusually ba.I i,i«.«
of road, ,f there was any that would justify Hud, char-
acterixation, one of the hordes ,mt a .hoe whiH. h«h
lost in the mire: but the bn,-'.woodsman let „,, such
small thins <ii8turb his e,,uanin.ity. Tl,e horse was
liberated from his fellow, the utility bo.v br.,uc,ht out
and before the lapse of many minutes another shoe ha.l
replaced the lost one.

The afternoon rapidly wore away, and tlie lenirth.
ene,l shadows warned us that we culd not reach our
destination that night, and, hurry along as best we
may in the gloaming, we did not reacli Kl)eme Lod.re
a log camp by the wayside in the wood^, „„til
"Night had let its curtain down
An' . '.nned it with a star."
Here we camped for the night, an.l, after the fatigue
of the day, we had no inclination to prolong the even-
ing hour, but were soon lost in refresliing sleep We
had not the forethought to propitiate the weather clerk
before retiring, and when we awoke in the morning we
found ourselves in a dreary, .lismal downpour of rain
that promised a bar to further progress that day Our
party was made up of those with whom, when on an
outing in the woods, "everything goes," and hence no
grumbling or fault-finding was openly indulged in-
whatever might have h^,..^ our inner sentiments.

Towards raid-day the rain ceased falling, and loading
the ladies and dunnago upon a jumper, as a wagon

could go no further, we took our leave of the frienu,
roof that had furnished us such welcome shelter. Th

dly

«S()

GaTIIRRKD WtirLKTS.

Bkill aud oare of tie KinR-man at all times, antl the
Htrength of two f{ui(leg in addition were many times
crllud into rHijuiiiition tu keep the irraft from capiii/.in){
an it rolled, pitohetl and tumbled about over boulders,
knnllg and cnign, but everything went well until one
runner became ho tirmly wedged in between tree mots
and boulders tliat «nap went the great cable ciiain to
which the team was attached, au<l yet not a part of the
jumper broke or gave way, bo well was it constructed
in the hooiIh of green hornbeam — and there was not
an iron bolt nor brace in the stnicture. Hastily cnt-
tini" a sapling for a lever and prying up the runner,
the uraw ciiain was scon toggled, and we were again
on our way witli but a few minutes ilelay. We reached
camp in the early evening and found everything neat
aud tidy, ipiickly disposed of a generous supper and
were soon lost in pleasant dreams on our beds of fra-
grant spruce and hemlock, wliile a roaring camp-tire
blazed Iiigh without and gave an added charm to tlie
night.

The fatigues of the previous days contributed to a
lengthy morning nap, and we were aroused from our
slumbers by the presence of strangers in camp. Turn-
ing out and making a hasty toilet we found a genial
fellow sportsman from Boston, and guide, in waiting
to tender tlie compliments of tlieir camp on the Middle
Jo JIary, some six miles distant, m here some half dozen
prt)fe88ional and business men for many years liad fol-
lo\ve<l Thoreau's example and made their camp on its
romantic shores. With kin<lly forethought, being in-
formeil when they were going in of the date of our
arrival, and knowing that we would be fatigued after
the journey, they brought with them numbers of beau-

OiR Trip t,> Littlk Jo Mary.

.•IK I

tifiil trout that oiir feiisti

,, , . , ''"Sf ""•' fDJoyrnHnt (if life in

the woo,U miglit beRin with the fim moruinif. ( „„rte.
..e» th«t were highly enjoye,! by u» were L,,„eotly
exchanKed between the o^mpn, an.I the writer imlulJ,
the hope that he may again grasp the frien.lly hamln
an.l share the boun.lle.. h„spit«lity of the jolly oamp-
ers on the Middle Jo Mary. '

(foing down to the water's edge, we found „„ oblong
lake 8ome four by Hve n.iles in e.vtent, s„rro„ude,I l,y
dense forent growth, with tier upon tier of ,no„nt„ins
in the distance, now looming up in the morning sun-
Hh.ne w,th the Hummit of i:„t„l.din in the b«..k.m.u, 1
H-rne twenty miles away. As we looked up:., tj
scene we rea' !ed that

"High untains are u feeling, but the hum
Of human eUies torture."

What a, luiet, restful scene! IIow we e,xp,,n.l our
m.K.«nddnnk,ntheh. "h-giving o.one': There
in the cove yonder are a other .b,e au,l her fulj.
grown young .l.sporting himself in the water- here
w.th.n a few ro.ls, saunter about a black duck m.d he;
brood of ducklings, as proud and unconcerned as if no
enemy were near; there a break in the water as some
monster trout completes his morning meal

Our reverie is disturbe.l by the advent of a canoe

an. a cheery voice sang out : "(Jet aboard, and let us'

at thern^ AVe were soon enjoying the pleasures of
he sport and soon provide.! an ample supplv for the

lar. ler, returning to the water all that ..ould „ot b,.

.me.l, as it ,s our rule never t.. waste .,r wantonly ,le.

stroy. ■'

The declining s„n f.,nn,l us at the water's e.lge in
wonderment an.l a.lmiration at the play of col..rs in

883

Gathered Waiflets.

the clouds and on the summits of the mountains.
Streamers of green and gold shot up to the zenith until
it seemed as if the dome of heaven was decorated by
ang-il hands, and the mountain tops were clothed in a
living, brilliant purple that shaded into the darkness
of night with the setting sun. The day ended, we
gathered around the earap-fire, with forest trees hoary
with age as sentinels all around us.

" 'Tis eve, 'tis night ; a holy quiet broods
O'er the mute world ; winds, waters are at peace ;
The beasts lie couched amid unstirring woods ;
The fishes slumber in the sounds and seas ;
No twit'ring bird sings farewell from the trees."
The evening wind sang a crescendo llirough the sur-
rounding forest and swung its censer of incense breath-
ing balsam and pine, and we dropped off in blissful,
restful slumber until again

" The vapers round the mountains curled
Melt into mom and light awakes the world."

And 90 went days and weeks, and who shall say that
we did not regret when the hour of parting came?
But stem duty called, and, as if from a gentle reverie
aroused, we returned to the treadmill of every day
life, looking forward in fond anticipation to the time
when we will again make our camp and build our
camp-fire on the Little Jo Mary. — Foreit and Stream,
September 17, 1891.

REMINISCENT.

A il

THE modest hepatica and the fragrant mayflower,
harbingers of springtime and welcome guests,
have come and gone, and the catkins on the
wiUow that appear before the snows of winter depart,
have long since been succeeded by the frondeseence of
early summer. The burning sun of June invites to
shade and cool retreat whence we may see the heat
waves rise from earth and dance and tremble until
lost m the higher atmosphere. Not a breath stirs,
and It seems as if we are aU alone in the world and
nature is enjoying a siesta. But no, for right here on
our left a colony of ants ply their honest toil, a spider
noislessly spreads his net in the branches overhead
and a katydid breaks in with its sibilant, rasping song.'
Our companion of many a day in field and covert,
tired of panting and lolling, throws himself broadside
upon the ground, and let us hope that he, like his mas-
ter, finds comfort and pleasure in the recoUection of
distant but not forgotten days of autumn time.

Ah! we have been there!— and in these sweltering
days it does one good to recaU those other days of
comfort and pleasure, days when the cares of business
and the perplexities of life were laid aside and forgot-
ten. Our thoughts go back to a day upon the hills
and in the runs of the old Bay State that wiU linger
long as a cherished remembrance, not because we shot
remarkably well nor scored such a large bag of birds.

384

Gathered Waiflbts.

■I 1

for we never measure our pleasure by the size of our
bag. The early drive in the clear, frosty morning
air, genial companionship, no friction or mishf -, cor-
dial reception at our destination, fine working ' ogs,
reasonable number of birds, and fair success in aeir
capture, aU contribute to the enjoyment of our outing.

A valued gunning friend and the writer had planned
for a dfiy out during the fnU moon of October, when
the flight of woodcock would be on, and with the
enthusiasm of school-boys we awaited the arrival of
the day. ^Ve arranged for an early start as our desti-
nation H!is a dozen miles distant, and we have a de-
cided preference for the early morning hours in the
covert. The writer turned in early the night before
and dreamed of birds, birds, birds. Arousing from a
sound slumber I think it near morning, and hastily
arising tind it only 2 o'clock. I return to bed but
not to sleep. At .'5 o'clock we are measuring off dis-
tance on the road. The morning air is keen, clear and
bracing, and we spank along at a good pace, well bun-
dled up and comfortable. We soon arrive at our des-
tination and find our old stamping grounds posted.
We are about to drive along to other haunts, when

Mr. S came out of his house and accosted us with

a cheery "Good morning, gentlemen, good morning."

"Good morning, Mr. S . We drove out for

a day's shooting, but we see you have your place
posted."

"Yes, but drive your team right into the barn and
shoot all you want to. I have posted my place be-
cause of pot-hunters who in years past have been here
day after day, and you'd think to see and hear them
that they owned the place. They never thought it

Rkminiscent.

88fi

worth while to ask

: permission, and they've killed lots
of birds here and have never had decency enough to
offer me a brace or even to as much as thank me.
Then I've been annoyed by a good deal of Sunday
shooting, and I won't have it. But you gentlemen are
just as welcome as ever to come here and shoot."

"Thank you, Mr. S ; we certainly appreciate

your kindness and will endeavor not to abuse it."

"That's all right. I've never had occasion to regret
your coming."

Before the conversation was ended the team was
cared for and two eager gunners were ready for the
fray. Our steps were turned toward a small brook
below the house, flanked on either side by a narrow
alder run, with a few scrub pines and apple trees, and
elevated land on either side.

My friend's AVilliain TeU (.'•)224), that rare good dog,
accompanied us, and he was as anxious and joyous as
his owner and companion for the sport of the day.
Parenthetically, I may say that Tell descended from
generations of noble ancestry, and that his unsur-
passed performances in the field were his by honest
inheritance. Nor were his good qualities limited to
the field, as his winnings on the bench at New York,
Boston, Providence, New Haven and other places bear
ample testimony. Nat 1884. Ob. 1891.

"Doc, you keep along on the edge of the hiU a lit-
tle ahead and above the alders, and I will go in with
Tell. It is so thick in there I don't think I can shoot;
and if old Mr. Grouse boils up I want you to knock
him over."

"All right, Charley, I'll do the best I can."

We moved quietly along some little distance, when

; ij

886

Gathered Waiflets.

Jo !^

%:{

ii: J

I am informed that there are birds there, as Tell is
making game.
"Look out, Doc, Tell has a point!"
No need to caution Tell to steady him, as he was as
staunch as a rock and was never known to flush a bird
through his own fault.

\\'liin--ri-rr-bang!— n-n-rr. As he rose Charley
got a snap shot in close cover, and he "boiled out," so
1 thought, at least, out of gun shot for ma, but I did
my best to stop Iiim. Certain it was that the wary
grouse escaped us both unscathed.

"Charley, come up here ! I have marked him down
up there in that undergrowth by the stone wall on the
other side of the road, and we ought to get him now!"
""WeU, Doc, I'll go up around on the other side of
him and turn him back down the run. If he goes up
over the hill it wiU be good day to him. So you get
in between him and the run and you will get a good
open shot."

We are soon in position and Tell again points him
under a snarly grape vine, which, with sumach and
pine, made a cover so dense that Charley could not see
him when he arose. But down the hiU he came by
me flying low and much like a flash c greased light-
ning. I threw in ahead and puUed with "the finger
of instinct and the eye of faith," and had the plrasure
of seeing feathers dirifting down the hill-side as a re-
sult
"Did you get hir- Doc 2"

"He is our bird, Charley, I think. At least I have
some of his plumage as a souvenir. But didn't he eo
though?"
TeU is soon on the scent and trails him down to the

RkmINI8CENT. 3gy

water's edge, but finds no bird. We join him in the
search and look the ground over carefully and tho^
onghly, but without success.

th JIm«Tr'"7'"" '■'''f'^ ^^ *'■« '''"'«« "P ""d down

earch He? T '" ^T. "^"^ ^^^ -"*■"-« ^^e
search. He travels up and down along the brook chal-

Wrd"sfr,';7/°°'r' "^°"^' ^^^'^^ back where the
bird struck the earth and works the ground over and

rruirrath"""-""'"""^ ^p^''*"^*»'« --^"

we would rather miss several clean than fail to secure
a dead or wounded bird. Skirting the brook doZ
ward to an unusual distance Tell strikes scent on a
flat stone in the middle of the stream, which at this
point IS quite wide and shallow, and is soon on the
other side where he again takes up the scent and traTl

point at some gnarly roots of a partially overturned
tree, ^\e look in vain to see anything of the bird
but reaching in under the roots as faras hecould Chi t
% grasped and withdrew from his hiding place a very
large cock grouse with one wing shot off Ve agreed
that we had never seen more persistent or better work
retneving done by any dog, as the cunning of the b ,1

tlfto b ir""'"' ''™ *" ^"'' '" -' — *•>

water to break the scent. ^Ye resumed our w, lown
the run and did not proceed far before anotu. .■ bird
broke cover out of .Lot nor stopped in his flight until
after passing out of sight over the distant hilltop. ]„
due time "JIark ! Bang !" an.l Charley's gun does the
deed of death before the bird showed' himseabov

in fr IT '''' "^ """ "* »'- 1-- -J of the
run and I take my position upon a little cleared knoll
around which the brook makes a bend at nearly a right

888

Gathered Waiflets.

II i

angle to it? former course. We usually found a covey
of birds at its foot, scattered among the blackberries
and scrub growth which when flushed flew directly over
the hillock to the dense woods beyond.

"Now, Doc, don't get rattled. If there a'e any
birds in there you know Tell can be depended on. I
won't send over but one at a time."

Charley and Tell strike out and surround the spot
and soon "Point ! Lookout!"

Whin^rr-rr— bang! bang right into my face and
past me without touching a feather.

"Are you ready? Look out!" Bang, and a clean
kill as he went quartering away on my left.

"Another point! mark!" and Charley's gun stopped
another in his flight before he got well under way.
"Tell has another point ? mark !"
Whirr-n^rr right in line for the muzzle of my gun
and killed clean at easy range. Another bird took
wing on Charley's left which went quartering away
out of gunshot and no ammunition was wasted on him.
"Well, that is good sport. Doc. How many did you
get?"
"Two."

"Well, two out of three shots is not bad in such
cover as this."

We gather up the birds and return to the bam for
lunch with five nice plump birds. We are invited into
the house but prefer to eat al fresco and enjoy the
warm sunshine. A pumpkin pie and a pitcher of
milk were sent out to us and they served to round out
a hearty lunch. We put one of Uncle Sam's promises
to pay ox. the plate when it was returned to the house.
Being somewhat fatigued from the unusual exercise of

RSXINIACKMT.

389

the foreuoon, we took a short rest and then started for
the run above the house, and worked over consider-
able territory without getting a point. We arrived at
a well-known marshy place that was densely over-
grown with grape vines and which seldom failed to
hold birds.

"Now, Doc, you go around and get into that old
wood road and I will work this the best I can out to
you. You know a fellow can't get a shot in such a
jangle."

"All right, Charley, give me five minutes to get my
position, then come right through."

I have not long to wait before the thunder of pin-
ions appraises me to be on the alort. Instantly I see
a bird coming directly toward me and another making
off at nearly a right angle. Banf, bang; and when
Charlie appeared lie inquired :

"How many were there^'

"Two."

"Which way did they go?"

"Come here and 1 will show you."

"Here is one," said I, pointing to my , )t, "and the
other is over there by that little sluice where it runs
under the road."

"Both?"

"For certain."

"Bravo! but that is good."

"Charley, that makes a pretty good bag and as we
are somewhat tired and the afternoon is on the wane,
what do you say to going over to the wh-ti birches
and trying for woodcock?"

"It's a go," said Charley, and we los' no time in
reaching our favorite flight woodcock ground. We

3B0 Gathered Waitlets.

tlid not go Beventy-tive yards beyond tlie stone wall
before Tell pointed, and Charley walked in and fluslied
a fine bin! which he grassed neatly with a single gun.
We worked idong some little distance. Tell cliallenging
fre(iuently but finding no birds until nearing a little
opening wliere he pointed near a tussock grown over
with a brushy undergrov.th. Both have good posi-
tions, and when he is flushed two guns at the same in-
stant roar out their message of deatli, and another
plump bird is deposited in our game bag.

The sun had kissed the topmost hills and we were
warned to retrace our steps, and making a detour in
the direction of our team we had just climbed over a
stone wall when up flew a bird without any warn-
ing, and making a hasty snap shot I missed witli my
ttrst, but scored a nice, clean kill at long range with
my second. Another bird fell to CJharlie's gun on the
way to the house, making our score for the day eleven
birds. We selected a fine brace of grouse and pre-
sented them to our host, who was much pleased, and
he gave us a very cordial invitation to come again.
We reached home in the early evening, tired, contented
and happy, our appetites whetted by the exertion and
bracing air of the day. Soon after getting thoroughly
warmed up and eating a hearty supper, Morpheus
wrapped us in his mantle and transported us to the
land of pleasant dreams.— Fores* and Stream, June ~^
1S92.

i ;i

#1 •

A VERACIOUS NARRATION.

*:l H

OOKS as though the storm was abont over
and I gnesB it's going to be colder," were
Charley Steele's words of salutation and
prophesy when he dropped in one afternoon in antumn
after a driving rain that lasted several days. The
words were not hastily spoken, and their manner of
( Iterance would not remind one of the impetnous
schoolboy bubbling over with animal spirits and over-
elated at the prospect of soon enjoying a day on the ice
with his skates. No I there is nothing impetuous
about Charley, and his going out and coming in, his
easy, swinging gait and drawling intonation suggest
that he was not bom in a hurry and that he has not
made war upon his inheritance.

Be the fates propitious or otherwise, his equanimity
is not disturbed, and his ability, patience, perse-
verance and untiring industry combined with droll
humor and apt rejoinder make him a prized compan-
ion for an outing. Are there any trout brooks acces-
sible, Charley carries a mental map of the topography
of the country for miles around, each rippling brook
clearly defined from source to coniluence as if graven
on metal, and each bend and pool that furnishes home
and hiding place tor piscatorial beauty yields abundant
tribute to his tempting lure.

Birds! Well, the boys say that they don't dare to
mate in the spring until he gives his consent and des-
ignates their nesting places.

I i 5

Oatribed WAinvTS,

' 1

I agreed with him that we were likely to get colder
weather, and now that the leavea had been beaten
from the trees, it would be a good time to take a day
off and pay oor respects to the birds. The suggestion
proved an exact fit, and the next morning, keen and
frosty, two gunners well bundled up with all necessary
impedimenta drove out to the northern covers. Buoy-
ant at the prospect, we were at peace with ourselves
and all the world, the smoke from the fragrant Ha-
vanns lending added comfort and perfuming the air
for yards around.

An hour's ride landed us several miles out where a
small cover iilled in one comer and a swale with scrub
growth the opposite where the turnpike crosses an-
other at right angles.

"Guess we had better hitch here and try this little
patch. You go into the open pasture on the other side
of the road and I'll take Pete and go down the road
and beat the cover back to you. If a bird boils out
he will come right into your face as he cuts across the
comer for the swale — and you know he don't count
if you don't drop him."

"All right, Charley. You put him up and he is our
bird. 1 feel just like it this clear, frosty morning."

I am not long in my place before I hear the tinkle,
tinkle of Pete's bell as he carefully quartered the nar-
row cover, and soon I got an occasional glimpse of
Charley's head as he worked his way towards me.
Coming within speaking distance he said :

"I guess there ain't any birds here this morning,
but somehow Pete don't seem to want to give it up.
He's been challenging and trailing, but I guess it must
be a rabbit that's run into the wall in front of you."

A VnAOioDs Narbatioit. 893

Pete mewwhile h.d worked ap under an .pple tm
A ^""'f'* °' ""dersrrowth by the ttone w.U on the
roadside and stiffened ont on a rigid point
Pete has a point, Docl"

"Whin-n-p, bang! "-and a plump grouse foU
within two : rds of my feet "^ ^ ^

"Didn't I teU you, Charley, that I felt just like it?
Why, I feel that it is just the easiest thing in the world
to down anything that flies to<lay.
t 1^^ »"""'^''*«' the ruffled plumage and carefully
folded the wings of the noble bird that but a moment
ago was instinct with life an.l deposited it in ourgame
rocket We drove along to the farm house beyond
the hill, where we received a c, ^lial welcome and an
invitation to put our team in the ham. \U were
soon in the apple tree run west of the house.

Doc, yon go up around and take your stand by
that big chestnut in the open up there about 2(m
yards I can take care of any birds that may be about
here but when I get into that tangled grape vine mess
up there I can t shoot, and you know that they cut right
across the opening by the chestnut to the cover be-
yond.

"AU right, Charley, and I'll cut them down before
they cut across."

Charley worked the covert out faithfuUy and uell
but started no bird until he got into the grape vine
thicket, where Pete made a staunch point, which Char-
ley duly announced.

"All right here, Charley; send her along"

At command Pete ilushed, and 1 saw Mrs. Grouse
making a bee line for my head. I had ample time to
put my gun to my shoulder and take deliberate aim

894

Gathcrss Wkirvm,

■I '

'I ;

i ,

M I might with a rifle, and when I judged the bird to
be at a proper distance, palled the trigger, feeling
absolutely cerUin that the bird would fall dead at my
feet, she was coming at such speed ; but like a flash
by me she went to the cover beyond, and so surprised
and astounded was I that it never occurred to me to
use the second charge on herl

Talk about the heights of expectation and the
depths of disappointment, talk about the dead ce^
tainties of life and ttnd yourself clinging only to the
baseless fabric of a dream !

"That's our bird, too, I suppose," said Charley when
ho appeared all too soon upon the scene.

" Yes, our bird to get Charley, do you suppose I
could get a job from some of these farmers aoout here
to pile up stones!"

"Why. what do you mean? Didn't you get that
bird?"

"Get that bird! No. I think 1 had better break
my gun over that stone wall and go home."

"Oh, come, now, don't get rattled. I thought yon
were feeling a little too ttue when we started in, but
the day is before us and we will do something yet.
Shfc was coming quicker than you thought and you
didn't shoot quick enough. You let her get too near
and your shot went by her like a bullet. AYhere did
she go J"

" Right on up the run."

"She is proodbly hid up in the scrub pine up in

that alder run. You get right up to the chestnuts by

that big bouldei and I will soon have her going again "

I had not long to wait before 1 heard Charley's

"mark" as she left a pine tree-top when he was just

A ViRAOious Nasbatiok.

89S

where he oonldn't ihoot Jnit u loon at the broke
cover bangt bang! went my gun and on went the bird
by me np the mn.

Rattled ? Please don't mention it I began to
think that I hadn't loit any partridge, and it wouldn't
make much difference if I didn't capture the one be-
longing to aomebody elae.

Charley emerged from the cover before she was lost
to view, and seeing that I had again missed her clean,
and doubtless appreciatiug my frame of mind, only
said:

"I've marked jer down in that brier patch under the
sumach up there and we'll get her now."

We soon surrounded her and Pete was ordered in.
She Mas running and soon took wing at a long dis-
tance, when both sent salutations and unheeded orders
to halt.

She ceased not in her flight until after reaching the
dense pine woods boyond the old road to Maiden,
where it would be use! ^l9 and unwise to pursue her.

But why recount thu adventures of that day in de-
tail? We hud journeyed some miles from the teauj
and we agree<l to go back around Maiden Hill in the
hope that fate wouhl be more propitious. But bird
after bird Charley sent uncomplainingly over my head
to the right and to the left, until I had used nineteen
shells and only had one bird to show for them, and
this witliout a word of criticism or fault finding from
him!

We reached the summit of the hill in sig4.t of the
farmhouse a little after mid-<lay, when Charley said :
'"You stanu out there in the opening and I will go
down this narrow strip of cover. There's usually

'. ill

I 1

896

Uatrbbed Waisxktb.

gome birds down at the lower end, where mast is
plenty, and they will fly right over this open spot to
the big woods. If yon don't kiU any of them I think
we had better go home. "

I was not in a talkative mood just then and answer
made I none. Charley worked down through the
almost impenetrable scrub growth, and when nearing
the lower end up boiled three birds, and veering
around they gave him no shot, but from my point of
vantage on the summit I could see all as they swiftly
scaled the scrub tops flying directly toward me. Two
more shells were wasted, and crest-fallen and disheart-
ened I started for the bam. Charley, not waiting for
my tardy steps, was seated on a log near the bam in
the warm sunlight eating his lunch on my arrival.

Not a word passed between us. I watered and fed
the horse and sat down and ate my lunch. Pete
wagged his tail in recognition for the morsel thrown
to him, but to me it seemed clear that disdain was pic-
tured upon his countenance. Charley's lunch was dis-
posed of long before I finished mine, and I could not
but observe that he held the stem of his meerschaum
more firmly between his teeth and sent forth greater
volumes of the fragrant smoke than usual.

Luncheon ended, we proceeded to hitch up the team.
As Charley was tucking the blanket around Pete
under the seat, he broke the silence with the brief
question :

"Going home ?"

•'I don't know but that we might as well, but I
hate to give it up so."

" Well, perhaps luck might turn. Suppose we go on
to the old red house cover. It gets dark early, but it's

11 I

^I"ll

A Vkbacious Nabration. 397

not^feP over there, and perhaps we might do Bom.

We are driving out of the yard now and the horse's

baJri rS ^""" ^' ^ Wg chestnuts by the
above. If I start any birds I am bound to kill some

you, and I don t want you to waste any more ammuni-
tion either. I wiU stay here on this knoU untuTsel
yon in your position."

ds?lLT^"''}^ go carrying my gun over my shoul-
der hink.ng of nothing but getting down to the ba™.
I had covered about half the distance when out from
under a scrub pine by the side of a thorn apple Z

Tof whr '''•^"'"" '1 --P-*-% -d the tht!
that I hi P'""'"^/''. ''i-o'-certed me, that I forgot

I thought I heard Charley say h-11, but of this I
would not want to affirm positively, as those who
know h be,t would hardly believe h'; co„W coml'

Whistle with their wings as is claimed why may not

srirrjeii:?'"^^^^^^"^^-^^--'--

The time was too precious to be frittered awav in
indulging in vain regrets, and so I was soon in the
place assigned me under the chestnuts. Soon I heard
Point! mark!" Bang, bang-bang, bang!
Ihe gunners have done their work, but it is Pete'
hour of triumph. Promptly and delicately he re

I! fl

898

Gathbrbd Waiflrts.

trieved three plump birds, two of which fell to Char-
ley's gun. We marked down the balance and in less
than ten minutes two more were in our pockets — one to
each gun. We turned and sought the covey that I
blundered upon, and had no diflSculty in locating
them in a nice open growth of chestnuts, where we
could work together. Pete pointed a single that gave
me a shot on the right when ilushed. I made a nice
clean kill and added the sixth bird to our score. A
seventh is soon flushed that made straight away, but
fell to the report of two guns at the same instant.
The day was fast going and we made a detour toward
our team, and on the way we killed another bird
apiece, successfully ending a day with the biggest hole
in it that it has ever been our lot to spend together.
—Forest and Stream, February 9, 1893.

I i

BOOKS IN RUNNING BROOKS.

it'

THE balmy zephyrs of spring breathe o'er the land
and bud and blossom are responsive. The
humming bird and butterfly disturb the trellis
and dislodge the dewey gem from the petal of the
morning glory, its mirrored rainbows dashed to earth
and lost to human ken. Destroyed it is not, but un-
heard and unobserved it joins its fellows and leaves
its birth-place on the summit in laughing ripples and
winding rivulets and sings ever onward, onward until
lost in the ocean beyond.

Books ik Rraxmo Brooks. 399

rays of ^„ „ -^ '* Journeys, it flashes back the
hs Sid! i T"""^ "•"'• ""^ *•'« ««''°°i'>oy tarries by

-int give it tC ^:tiT"T?"'*"^."°^^^^
the copM shrinks from T .^- J^/ timid hare in

violets are hddenr.L '^'"1'^ ^"™''""^ ""^'>o'
thread of onr id 'Uieirr^ '^T "'''"' *^« «»^«'
field and Criant tjot "■""'^" *"'''"«'' ^««»«

anJ kindlfra^ oMT "' ^"^^ "^« ''»«'-<J«
blossom as if full" -^T t "*; "' '°"''^«' ''"'' ""^
enehanti nl^ seZf T^" """^ «PP"«'-tive of the

ms feathered companions, and :he undying melody of

he npphng brook ; his system thrills with e" ultaLn

as he contemplates the beauteous scene while he jour

3 S? h'"'"' f ''"^ *" *'■« eontenL ofhl
creel, «h.ch to him is the minor and less valued part

w•eJtlv:;r::Si^^''^^^ •'-«^- "'-««- th"

'Tis an ideal

lading

' eat his noonday lunch.

^J brooding oWit'irS^Sr^t
i^ettmg life's joys go by."

400

Gathered Waiflets.

i i

And so Piscator — to him each varied scene in the
kaleidoscopic panotsma is instinct with pleasure and
added joy. Crnmbs from his lunch are shwed with a
pair of robins that have been industriously at work
putting the iinishing touches to their new home in an
adjoining tree, and a brown thrush flits from stem to
stem in the bushy undergrowth, not daring to venture
into the presence of man. He is fatigued by the un-
usual tramp, and with crossed legs and red and reel by
his side he leans back against the tree for a little rest
and quiet enjoyment, but the mind cannot be disci-
plined like the body, and it refuses to siijpend its
functions. Without mental eflon, he sees in his morn-
ing's experience an epitome of life itself — beginings
the most humble and helpless, children multiplying
and adding strength to the family name and household
even as the rivulets to the brook ; obstacles and hin-
drances in the way to be overcome and surmounted ;
life's pathway now turbulent and precipitous and
anon without agitation or ripple ; now with bud and
blossom to cheer and please and again encountering
the boulders and thorns of opposition and difiSculty ;
now in sunshine and calm and again with darkening
cloud and forked lightning as if to cast down, crush
and anniiiilate ; now moving along in quietness and
alone, even as Piscator himself; now prolific and use-
ful and now seeming barren and useless ; now turning
the wheels of industry amid the noise, grime and tur-
moil in centres of population, and anon bearing the
burdens of commerce out to and losing itself in the
boundless ocean, even as does restless and resistless
time transport the human family out upon the meas-
ureless ocean of eternity.

TOKGDBS IK TbKSS. 4Q1

lit

TONGUES IN TREES.

THE trout hog arid pot-hunter may And enjoyment

S" t ^f ".««*-««- camed^ev?„ t
thi, .1 5 «-^t«™ination, and too many of

th.s class are oflfendvely conspicuous in wroLw
named Sportsmen's clubs, whose professed oZct is
o protect and develop fish and game. These, togeth
r„ t ^T"'"''^ '^^'^ ••««'-'"t-l largely from the
ranks of those engaged in the sale of fishing tTckle
ammumt^on and other agents of destructio Ld "S '
(lelight to masquerade in the garb of snZ

rb?an7:r ''%Tr'r^ o7\:\7::z2

T 1 / * '''"^* ''"P^^t^f' streams and emntv
Zd and a niggardliness that attempts noth ng' n
the direction of re-stocking either.

402

Gathered Waitlets.

'I, I-

I" ■

The best element in the guild of gportaman has
long since learned that the greatest benefit and pleas-
ure of an outing are not to be measured by the destruc-
tion wrought, nor the profit estimated by the dollars
and cents which the contents of creel or bag might
bring if sold in the market.

No ! Despising tbese, which at best are but inci-
dents in a broader and higher view, the greater pleas-
ure and benefit that come to him who goes afield with
eyes and ears open, and whose heart is not withered
by avarice, count for more than mere wanton slaughter.
lie whose being is so attuned,

"finds tongues in trees."

He realizes that the world is but a vast school house
and all are pupils. In the every-day walks of life he
encounters some bom with the grin of Momus, who
can see only the ludicrous ; some with a bent for the
serious, who never smile; some who, surmounting
every obstacle, ascend to the summit at a single bound,
and others who never become more than drudges or
drones by the wayside.

He considers how much he has to be thankful for to
whom it is given to be any of these as occasion de-
mands, and how deserving of commiseration and sym-
pathy is he who can appear in but a single role.

To the thoughtful and observing the book of nature
is ever interesting and instructive, its varied leaves
stored with amplitud, to hold enraptured the greatest
intellect, while not repelling the most callow youth.
All stations and conditions bring tribute to her shrine
and learn frfim her lessons as diveree as are her de-
votees. IMauy an interesting parallel to the every-day

TOKOCBS IN Trbbs. ^jjg

root« Btnk,ng «ore deeply and holding more fllw

Were he hnds a brotherhood of trees in oU.J

Zrtn~2' "fr "^ ''-"- " o-l.eh2 e-
th^ other t ''^*'""' ^"' °-* """--oaching upon
the other, the soughing of the wind in their branches
yp.fymg the orisons of their human companions an,
their balsamic fragrance permeating all and wlf?

onTigh " ''-'''"hood to the great white throne

snrtr'^-''" 'T, ^""'' ^'''"* *™«^ t»^«ring above all
surroundings, hke the noted ones of the world and

theTs^'T":""' '"* '^"■^^^ -*'■ «bunZce 1 kf

i:aT;ootd:edr'"''^^^ "' --'''- *"« -'^-^^

Pe^S-^iarellS:!-—--^

404

Gathered Waiflets.

and they remind him only of the vagabond contingent
and enemies of their kind ; others stately and fair to
look upon that are rotten within ; trees of great height
and vast proportions that challenge his attention and
command the tribute of his admiration, that are
snapped asunder by the whirlwind and thrown to
earth, pulling down and crushing everything in their
course like many a proud man who started out upon
the journey of life in conscious strength and buoyant
with the hope of great achievement, who attained to
high and envied station, but who in a moment of
weakness encountered the gale of temptation and fell
with an appalling crash that shooij the pillars of soci-
ety and brought ruin and disgrace in his path.

Again, he is surrounded by others that seem fitting
companions to the dilettanti whose every thought is
of the present and who always promise themselves a
golden to-morrow, but w . are swept into oblivion by
the winds of adversity, leaving i, 'lind not even
charred embers as a remembrance, as does the consum-
ing forest fire. The towering oak and olinging vine,
type of conjugal love and highest eartjlj' affection,
escape not his attention nor the lesso'js they teach of
bearing one another's burdens.

Some he sees are like other members of the human
family who have a grand destiny, while others of as
great intrinsic value live and die unknown ; some are
great in a worldly sense, while living by their associ-
ation with events of importance, and others, like the
good ones of the world, are best known and appreci-
ated when beyond its praise.

Putting forth bud and blossom they well typify
youth and give promise of a great future; clothed

P.C...U Fb„,« t„oo™ „, fc^ ,„j

PICKEREL FISHING THROU(iH THE ICE.

THE eye do„- discerns no difference between the
rrnds of the rippling brook and its slack

bank atThrK""', T"'"'' ''"^'" "^ *''« overhanging
bank at the bend, where in the sunshine of summer
he beautiful trout lo.e to tarry. Boreas has escaped

■n h,s ,cy embrace-while wrapping the earth in the

J li

' J

1 .'

, j i

■"

:? ■

406

Gathibed Waifhts.

ample foldi of his »nowy mantle. Haman enactmenta
are now in harmony with Nature's laws, and the
sportsman erstwhile mast forego the pleasnres of rod
and gun and content himself with reminiscence and
indifferent substitutes. The lowing kine may not add
beauty to the landscape, the leafy copse may not give
back the varied notes of its feathered songsters, nor
the fern yield its fragrance to the trampling foot;
and yet the gentle savage within him may not be
wholly repressed although the highest canons of
sportsmanship be offended in its gratification. The
choice five ounce split-bamboo must be laid away, and
the delicate fly of many and gaudy hues be relegated
to the fly-book, for to-day we must be content with the
inelegant tilt and lively minnow.

The wind has veered around to the south and the
day grows sunny and warm with the passing morning
hours. A trio gather about the fire— and soon a fel-
low feeling and longing for old-time adventures and
pleasures prompt an adjournment to a neighboring
pond some few miles away. As mid-day approaches
these congenial friends and the writer, well tucked np in
fur robes, with four dozen tilts and a generous supply of
all other things needful, sally forth behind the merry
music of the jingling bells for an encounter with the
pickerel in their native haunts.

It may be well to e.xplain that there was some dif-
ference of opinion at the outset as to where Messrs.
Eso-x were most "at home." but the junior member of
the party parts his hair in the middle, and, not yet
having encountered many of the adverse storms of
life, his face is generally decorated with a ten-gauge
smile, which he ia in no hurry to part with by apply-

PiOKKR«i, FiBHiwo Thkodoh TH« Io% 407
ing himwlf to the wriou. consideration of the difflcalt
Rnh of the Scripture., "whither thou goe.t I wiU
Tle~oti; " V'"'^ ■ '"»"' '- »'•« contentro"
stature and carrying only . light load of years, ha.

bloodthirstyNew Jersey mosquito in his native haunt.
He never failed to recognize the superior qualification,
of the patriarch of the party, and to accori thr«s2

wilds of Maine he became the victim of misplaced

confldence and found he had only a baby pathflS

n the person of the patriarch for a guide when he

ost a blazed trail and floundered about f;, a long

me ,n an almost impenetrable windfaU jungle, h!

now disposed to be more exacting and critLl, and

>t was not without the use of many of the nice oe^

r pkns^°ft "' *'^- ''f •""''^ *""'•■« ---" 't"
ine plans of the patriarch.

n, t"^?^v^ r' destination we found the ice of only
moderate thicknes,, and we had our first tilt set as
th Steam whistles of the city were sounding for one
o clock We succeeded in getting but a few tilts set
i?ea"rn!7T "' '\'''' ''' -""^ *''« ««'« S^^ began
announced the usual result-that the big fish had de-
ZTe ""'" f^'- "'" '° *"™ B«-endeS lo a

uofn tl,r'"l "f ""* ^''' '^'«"*1«««- We hurried
befl weTl K .r"'°^ ^''^ '"*^' •'"* •'"•J to desist
SaLTuriot"''" "" "'""'^^ ^"- ^»"- - ^^'

408

OaTHKRBD WAIFLBTg.

We ate our lunch while travellini; from tilt to tilt,
keenly enjoying the beautiful calm, gunny winter'g
day, its stillneu broken only by the jollity of the flsh-
ermen, the click of the teU-tale tilt, an<l the sharp re
port of the distant woodsman's axe. "We were out for
a good time, and a gooil time we have, every condition
being favorable. Our pile of flgh grew rapidly, and
their black, gold and green blended in harmony and
made a pretty picture on the ice. We did not want
all the flsh in tlie pond, and we pulled up at 4 o'clock
and returned to the city with an elegant string of
forty-four pickerel that weighed nearly double as
many poundH.— ^ore»< and Stream.

I ^ ■ '

JACKING DEER.

A REMINISCENCE OF A NIGHT IN TIIK WOODS.

JACK ~ OYLE and (Jeorge Chipman, George Chip-
man and Jack Boyle! Juii the best of names
for guides, and just the best of guides who bore
them — men skilled in woodcraft, and who can cast a
fly, handle a canoe, pitch a tent, make a bough bed
and prepare a tempting menu with the best
^ Our party, consisting of Mr. Otis Le Roy, of New
York city, and Harry S. Seeley and the writer, from
the Heart of the Commonwealth, had spent a lengthy
vacation with them during the Fall of 1889 in the

III.-' I

11,] 1

Jaokino Deer. 409

wilds of Maine, enjoying the exeeUent fly-fishing of
■J^ wat«rs, and drinking in the luxury and exhilara-
tion of • je bracing mountain air, perfume laden and
woods' , and gazing out upon such scenery, now decked
uui ii, aU the gorgeous colorings of early Autumn, as
pen of Ruskin or Thoreau, or pencil of Rembrandt
never depicted! We had made the circuit of the
Chain of Ponds in the Dead River region of Maine,
over Snow Mountain to the Seven Ponds, then by
Massachusetts Bog and Arnold Pond to Crosby
Pond, where we spent our last night in camp to-
gether.

The trout season had ended and now our rods, that
had done us good service, were dismounted and laid
aside. The evening was spent in formulating and dis-
cussing plans for the morrow, when it was decided
that in the morning we should push on over the Boun-
dary Mountains to the club house on Spider Lake in
Canada, and that Jack and the writer must do the
honors for the party in the matter of big game.

Morning dawned all too soon, and lowering clouds
gave us some uneasiness. A hasty breakfast and the
trail was taken for Hathan Bog, up which our entire
party with their duffle were paddled eight miles in
one frail canoe ; reaching the upper end of which we
were soon again on the trail toward the summit of the
Boundary Mountains, the water-shed of which deter-
mines the boundary of Maine and Canada, in accord-
ance with the Ashburton treaty of 1842— all water
running northeriy in this part of the country is in
Canada, and that running southerly is in Maine. We
had not covered more than one-half the distance be-
fore a cold, dri7.zling rain compelled us to seek shelter

'■> it

410

Gathbbbd Waiflets.

in a friendly lean-to for some time. This, with the
increased difficulty of walking, made our arrival at the
club house several hours lat«r than we Lad planned, and
on arrival we found that another party with a noted
guide had already gone up Spider River for deer
where we had planned to go.

Jack looked crestfallen on learning this, and being
asked what was to be done, or if there was no other
place that we could go to with a fair prospect of get-
ting a buck :

"Well— yes," he slowly began, "but it is a good many
miles from here, and no good way to get to it. But—"
"But what. Jack?"

"Well, I was going to say, if I was going alone I
would go there now, but it is some ten or twelve
miles, and most of it would have to be done on foot"
"Well, Jack," said I, a trifle nettled at the insinua-
tion contained in his reply, "haven't I been with you
a couple of weeks, and haven't I kept my end up with-
out grumbling or fault-flnding P

"WeU— yes," again slowly began Jack ; "but it is a
long way, and it is so cold, and looks like more rain,
and if we are going to go up there we ought to be
there now so as to throw up some kind of a shelter
for the night as there is no camp there. And then if
we go there and don't get any deer— but there's deer
there."

"Well, Jack," said I, "that is enough. We go. You
know me long enough to know that I don't kick. If
we get anything, weU and good ; if we don't, we will
at least have done all we could. So hurry up and let
us be oflf."

A few moments later and a boat shot out from the

Jacking Debe. 411

wharf on Spider lake for a fouMnile pull The
autumn wind sang its mournful dirge through the
tree-topg and the lowering clouds were mirrored like
isles of fairy beauty in the depths of the lake. Again
they would seem as lofty peak and mountain range'
making caverns and grottos as fitting abodes for un-
canny gnomes and elfln sprites.

Jack's strong pull soon landed us alongside an old
head-works, and making our boat secure, we were off
on our long march. Our wind and muscles were taxed
to the utmost and few were the words we uttered
The last mile or so was through a dense woods and
the shades of evening settling down made the travel-
ing very difficult, with many a trip, slip and stumble
But haste on we must, and haste on we did, thoroughly
warmed up and sweating with the exertion. Going
down a slight declivity Jack informed me that we
were neanng our destination, and, making our way
with the utmost difficulty through some two hundred
yards of brush, mire and bog, we emerged on the bor-
ders of a lake, now looking like a huge mirror in the
darkening gloom.

Jack soon found his old dugout and we paddled
across the neck of the lake to a little higher land
Pushing back fifty yards from the shore we came to a
boulder upon which we were glad to drop our weary
bodies, and, oh ! was eider down ever so restful?

No fire must be made— not a word uttered. There
in the solitude of the darkening night, buried in the
depth of the forest, miles away from human habita-
tion, a cold, drizzly rain beating down, without other
shelter than the tree-tops, devoid indeed must he be
of aU sentiment who does not think thoughts and ex-

412

(lATHEBED WaIFLETS.

hi M

perienee feelings such as can come to man nowhere
else, and who does not realize more forcibly than ever
before what the companionship of man means, and the
whisperings that come to him from the God of soli-
tude!

Time soon wore away and Jack whispered that we
had better start out. I told him to go down to the
canoe and rig up the jack, and I would be down in a
few minutes. I was so overcome with fatigue that I
dropped off to sleep, and the ne.Yt I knew Jack was
shaking me and saying that everything was ready. If
I ever wanted to do a thing chat I didn't do, it was to
sit riglit tlifire and let the deer disport themselves un-
molested. I was about to tell Jack to go out and do
what he could alone, and I would 9t)iy wliere I was, but,
arousing myself with the thought tliat I had come
hundreds of miles for just such an opportunity, and
that I liad tliis day undergone such toil and inconven-
ience, and now at the eleventli 'lour I would not give
it up!

And 80 with an effort I gathered myself up and
soon I was sitting behind the jack in the bow of the
canoe. Sensations unprecedented and nowhere else to
be found ! The canoe glided over the water like a
sentient thing, not a tremor felt from its propulsion,
not a swish or ripple from the paddle, and, but for see-
ing against the horizon tree-top and mountain passing,
no realization of motion or advance; on all sides the
stillness of the death chamber or tomb, when, lo ! two
Jiving, burning diamonds there in the darkness ! Are
they twenty, tifty or two hundred yards away 3 The
jack light is put dead on and the canoe makes noise-
less advance. Lightning flashes forth from out the

Jacking Deer. 413

rifle npon the darknesa of the night and the thunder
18 echoed and re-echoed with startling reverberation
from mountain top to mountain top.

" That is our meat ! WeU done, sir, weU done! A
capital shot."

"And how do you know it is our meat. Jack ?"
'Because you would hear him crashing through the
brush if yju missed or only wounded him, sir."

Landing was made, and not fifty yards away, on the
grassy bog, lay my first buck breathing his last. He
weighed two hundre<i and forty pounds, and carried a
beautiful set of antlers with five prongs on each.
With considerable toil we landed him at the place of
our departure, all fatigue and sleepiness having de-
parted. "Now, Jack, for a fire and a snack."

"All right if you say so, sir, but I think in the
course of an hour we could get another one, and I
would like to beat that Spider River party!"

"I am agreeable. Jack," said I, admiring his gami-
ness, as down we sat in the darkness.

In about three-quarters of an hour he whispered that
he could not stand it much longer, and as we were
wet with perspiration and the night was getting de-
cidedly cold, I was very glad of the opportunity to
say that I did not care if we did not go out again.
But Jack's pride was up and he wanted, if possible,
to beat hit rival guide. So out we sallied, and going
not m^re than two hundred yards beyond the scene
of our first adventure I dropped the second buck in his
tracks. He weighed a little over two hundred pounds.
'There, Jack, that is beyond my expectations, and
hfty dollars would not tempt me to kiU another buck
to-night."

' )|

414

Oathbrbo Waiflbtb.

White birch was Roon cnt, a dash of keroger<) oil
from our lantern thrown over it, and soon a roaring
camp Are was throwing out its warmth and lending an
added charm to the scene. Hardtack, cheese and hot
coffee regaled and refreshed the inner man. A hastly
constructed lean to and bough bed soon materialized,
upon which two fatigued, contented hunters soundly
slept the night away.

The bucks were landed at the clubhouse next day
and duly photographed, as shown in the accompany-
ing illustration. It is but justice to Jack to say that
his rival came in empty-handed. — The Amateur Sports-
man, April, 1891.

A DAY IN THE OLD DOMINION.

DO you know Dol Eley ? Yes, Adolphus S.. but
that is too long and formal, and you know
his intimate friends call him Dol for short.
You do ! Well, my friend, let me congratulate you
that you number one of nature's noblemen and a
princely host in your list of acquaintances.

It was my good fortune to make his acquaintance
some years back, when he presided over an extensive
mercantile business, the golden letters of whose sign
over the door of his establishment but faintly typi-
fied the character of him within. Emolument, as it
should, rewarded his endeavor, and now in the prime

A Day in the Old Dominion. 41,-1

of life, with his devoted wife, the day ig not long
enough to do good and to diffnse sunshine and happi-
ness on every hand.

Like some of the world's wisast end best, he finds
health, strength and recreation in an occasional outing
with dog and gun, and although it is but in recent
years that he donned the wedding garment of sports-
manship, a well-filled bagfre(iuently attests his profic-
iency. Not long since it was the writer's good fortune
to spend a day with him and a couple of friends in pur-
suit of Orlyx Virginianus, the partridge of the Old
Dominion, but which is the well known quail or Bob
White of the more northern states. Loaded into a
couple of vehicles the party, including a couple of
"plantation coons" and several doss.left the town for
a six or eiglit-mile drive, going out by the waterworks
and Lake Kilby on toward Bethlehem. Arriving at
an old plantation a fallow cornfield that had grown
up to rag weed attracted our attention and it was de-
cided to investigate.

The dogs were cast ofl and scampered away like so
many wild colts and we simply interested spectators,
sitting in our carriage on the roadside. The rapidity
of pace and wide ranging of the dogs is a revelation
to Northern gunners. Running as rapidly as a hound
might after a hare, they covered the field quickly and
thoroughly, and when near the lowest corner near a
slough, old Don suddenly wheeled to the right and
became as rigid as a statue, the other dogs promptly
backing, some of them nearly one hundred yards away.
"Hie OP there! Get up on to them! Hie on!"—
and slowly creeping along he advanced some twenty-
five or thirty yards and is again immovable.

. 1 II

r Ti

416

Gathkred Waiflets.

n 1

"Get out of that ! hie on there ! — on there, I gay !" —
creeping stealthily along a few yards further no com-
mand availed to budge him another incl

" Heed ! heed I steady there ! hold, now !" "What a
picture !

"Now, gentlemen, we will go down and give an ac-
count of ourselves."

Advancing to within a few feet of the dogs we saw
a tine bevy huddled together right under his nose.
Flushing them, three double guns sent six charges of
shot after them, but we failed to gather six birds!
AVe took a charitable view of the situation and eon-
soled ourselves with the probability that some of the
dead birds must have received double charges.

We did not follow them into the dense green-brier
growth, but turned our steps to other flehls where we
found plenty to admire, test and reward our skill.

The forenoon quickly wore away, and witli whetted
appetites we worked the fields out by the Bethlehem
church a few miles to a favorite pine grove to spend
the noonday hour. The "coons" were sent along in
advance to build fire and make preliminary prepara-
tions, the day being stiU and cloudless and the mid-
winter air being as soft and balmy as early autumn in
our Northern home. Reaching our trysting place a
hamper of generous proportions was produced, together
with a sack of McAnge's No. 1 select oysters from his
extensive oyster beds. The "coons" soon had them
popping open upon their bed of coals, and with a
pinch of salt and pepper and a squeeze of lemon
juice was ever toothsome morsel more appetising and
palatable ?

Disposing of what would under other circumstances

•l ;!

A Dav in thk Old Dominion. 417

have been an ample meal, we tnrned our attention to the
more gubgtantial elements of our repast. There,
spread in generous quantity upon snowy linen on a
carpet of pine needles and cones, were broiled quail
of the morning's shooting, roast turkey, 8lice<l Smith-
field ham, cold tongue, bread, and such biscuit as I
never saw elsewhere as made under Mrs. Eley's roof,
together with hot coffee, jelly, sweet pickle and all the
et ceteras that cultivated taste could suggest and ample
means provide. Tlie dinner hour was not limited to
si.xty minutes, and many was the brilliant sally and
skillful parry, the genial give an<l take so characteris-
tic of gentlemen who go a-tield.

As a fitting accompaniment to the feast wine glasses
of cut glass v.-ere handed around and, filled to over-
flowing, the health, happiness and years of our host
and his helpmate at home were quaffed in libations of
choicest Scuppernong. We added to our score of
birds and bunnys during the afternoon, and when we
returned to town in the early twilight strapped to the
rear end of our wagon in true Virginia fashion dangled
the goodly result of our day's outing.

In our calendar we number many a day in the field
and by the stream, but this stands out bold and con-
spicuous as the one deserving to be known as the red
letter day of them all. Should it ever be my good
fortune to score another such experience I believe it
will be in the sunny South and Dol Eley will not be
far away.— The Amateur Sportsman, August, 1891.

ONLY A DOG.

I ]

AND Fido is dead I Good Fido !
lie was only a dog in the humbler walks of
life it is true, and could boast of no patrician
lineage or bench show conquests — a dog that lived his
day and is not — and why should he occasion further
thought or regret (

Ah! there are dogs and dogs, some of the most
worthless of whom pass a pampered existence in the
homes of luxury and who when dead are accorded
marble mausoleums; some that never deserved the
friendship of man and who cannot be too soon forgot
ten; and others whose intelligence so approximates
the human that it would seem as if it must have
crossed the border line of instinct and entered the
domain of reason, who so endear themselves by ready
adaptation to an earnest endeavor in their master's
service that we part with them with keen regret and
accord them a prominent and honorable place in onr
memory.

Fido, the subject of this sketch, first saw light on
the sea coast of Old Virginia, and his main ancestral
line was clearly that of the Irish setter, although a
cross was apparent that resembled the Chesapeake Bay
dog.

He came into the possession of Captain Andrews,
of Little Island, when quite young, and he never
parted ownership with him. He was intelligent.

i .11

OlfLT A Doo.

41»

affectionate, cool and level-headed beyond that of
any dog it has ever been the writer'* lot to know, and
he would be glad to learn of, and would go miles to
■ee another such, if one exists, that would compass
such a range of usefulness to the sportsman and per-
form his part as well.

Without attempting to enumerate all of his good
qualities, let me indicate their variety, range and
trend, by relating the varied experiences of a single
day's outing with him in Southern game regions.

It was decided before retiring the night before that
the writer, with McChesney as boatman and server,
should attempt to outwit the canvasbaoks in the morn-
ing.

Leaving Captain Andrew's snuggery on Little Island
before daybreak for SheU Point some miles distant,
Fido was exultant and ran before us unbidden to the
landing and was down charged on top of the decoys in
the bow of the Spray before we reached the shore.
AVe encountered adverse winds and were compelled to
tack so ofteu that our progress was very slow, and gray
streaks and faint rosy tints betokening dawn were per-
ceptible in the East before we reached our destina-
tion.

Fido's head was constantly describing a tangent,
and his keen and watchful eyes were ever on the alert
at his self-imposed task of lookout. He no sooner
discovered a bunch of fowl in the distance than he
gave three notes of warning— im, im, im, in quick
succession— and down crouching, not another sound
or movement from him until they were out of sight.
This he many times repeated before we landed at our
blind, when he promptly took his place in the sedge

4S0

(tATIIERKD WaIFLKTK.

* ;

grass iin<l cano broke ami did duty as before, When
the giin was flred, if no duck fell into the water he did
not leave his place, but the instant one struck the
water Le was in, and if only wounded, he would set up
a yip, yip, yip, and after him with such rapidity that
tlie duck In its attempt to escape would not dive be-
low the surface and disappear as they often do when
not pursued, but half swimminj?, half flying make
every fflfort to escape. Fido lias been known to keep
in hot pursuit and capture the fugitive after a cha«e
of more than three miles in ice-cidd water. Anil if it
so happened that some were killed outright and otliers
only wounded, witli rare discrimination he wouhl
single out and capture the wounded ones before re-
trieving tliose killed outright.

During tlie early morning houi-s we had very good
sliooting, but between nine and ten o'clock the wind
died out, the day liccame warm and sunny, the sea-
fowl took their departure from the Hack bay and
sounds to the ocean, anil duck r<hooting was over until
their return to the feeding groumls towards evening.
My boatman proposed that we go over to Long Island
and try for snipe and ipiail, and he thought that per-
haps we miglit get some black duck in the numerous
lakelets and marshes on tlie island which furnish tine
feeding grounds for them, and where, being surrounded
by rank growth of cane and flag which renders access
to them extremely ditlicult, they remain in compara-
tive security. \\'e soon made landing near a hog wol-
low and were scarcely on land before we were greeted
with scaipe, scaipe as hither and thither darted cork-
screwing snipe. We punished a number that Fido re-
trieved with the promptness of a master in the art,

Orly a Do<t.

421

beinK iteady at he«l when not so «D|{B|;eil. We
crossed over a ridge of kud that runs parallel with the
island, and which is under cultivation, and no Hooner
did we cross a ditch on the opposite side than Fido
was off into the broom grass and scattering scrub
pine.

"Oh my! but we will have some fun now," said
Mac.

" Why, what's up now ?" said I.

" He's after a coon and — "

But before the words were ended the battle was on.
liaz^ile, dazzle, spit, yelp, iiowl, snarl, and dog and
coon were whirling rouud and round, over and under,
and finally emerging into a little open patch the coon
laid firm hold of the dog's cheek and made him howl
with pain, f rushed in to despatch the animal, but I
was stopped by Mac, wlio said —

" Let tliem have it out I Let them have it out ! —
I'll bet on Fido every time."

Fido wliirled round and round with such rapidity
as to break the hold of thec<:'on and landing him fully
ten feet away. Before lie could regain his feet Fido
closed in and soon ended tlie combat. We continued
on to the little lake at the end of the creek, and
<iuietly and carefully made our way up to its margin,
when up jumped a bunch of seven black ducks un<l we
succeeded in dropping five of tliem. The lake is so
l"'Kgy t'lat we could not have recovered a single
duck, but in sprang Fido and retrieved overy one.
We then turned our steps toward the upper end of
the island, some two miles distant, where a crop of
cereals had been harvested, to look for quail, or part-
ridge as they ale called in Virginia, Reaching a

423

Gatrsrbd Waikiets.

grove of scattering pine trees we sat down upon a
knoll to eat our lunch, Fido dropping down in front
of us. For some time we noticed that he seemed
fidgetty and restless, but thinking it might be owing
to undue and excessive exertion during the fore-
noon we gave the matter little thought until he
quietly got np and with cautious, stealthy step went
quartering behind us a few feet and pounced upon a
huge black snake fuUy six feet long that lay coiled
np in the sunshine. He soon shook the life ont of
him, but was so loth to desist that Mac had to take
the snake on the end of a stick and carrying him
seventy-five or a hundred yards away, hung him on a
dead limb that projected from a pine tree some feet
above the ground. He had not covered more than
half the distance on his return before a buzzard bore
down and seizing his snakeship made off with him to
enjoy his noon-day meal.

Soon after we were in the stubble and ragweed,
when right and left quartered Fido, attending strictly
to the business in hand, as alert and active as though
he had hunted nothing but quail all his life. He
challenges, he roads them in the winding and devious
pathways, and finally straightens out on point as
rigid as a statue. We closed in and flushed the birds
and Mac's unerring gun scored three and the writer was
content with one. At command, Fido retrieved them
with as much care and pride as any sportsman could
wish. We continued the quest and secured five more
plump birds before returning home. The events of
the day and the performance of Fido did not impress
me at the time as bordering on the marvelous, but on
our trip back to Little Island he so promptly took his

O.M.V A Doo.

42:!

place in the bow of the boat to watch for sea-fowl as
usual that the writer could not forbear to speak of liis
varied accomplishments, when Mac said that to see
him at his best lie must be seen after the cotton tails,
and proposed that we drop down to the lower end of
the island, where there was some scrub growth, and
give them a run. This we dul, and taking our j.laces
on some little mounds of shell and sand we soon saw
bunny running at full speeil, closelv followed bv t!i<'
dog.

He turned him to the left and liea.led him around by
Mae, whose old reliable gim ended the chase. Fido at
once quartered around and soon jumped another who
lead him a much longer run, but he, too, true to his
instinct, turned to reach the place of his departure
where he was stopped in his tracks when at the heiglit
of his speed by the leaden messengers of death.

We captured several more wlien we returned to the
house, luiving killed a larger variety of game in a
single <lay than it has ever been my "lot to do befor<'
or since, having had tlie benefit ami" jih^asure of sueli
a dog as I never again expect to see, and which, with-
out exaggeration, 1 may call a marvel of his species.

He has compassed the limit of his days an<l is gone.
He sleeps where the woo-oo-oof-oo of tlie swan and the
varied notes of the sea-fowl blend with the ceaseless
murmur of the ocean as it sings a fitting requiem
while a friendly hand places this humble tril)ute as a
chaplet upon his lonely grave. — Amntcur Sp,„tnm<n,,
January, 1892.

, .1

:! !'

VERACIOUS JIM.

' i

^^-^ TT JELL, I guess 1 liiul !«'ttoi- punch up yer
•• W/ lire u little, liiuhi't I," said our Factotum
' ^ as he peered into our lean-to on the shore
of Arnold pond at the head waters of the Dead river
near the suniniit of the Boundary mountains in north-
western Maine. " It seems to me it's gettm' purty
low, and it will be more cheerful lik." if it l.la/.es up
higher and brighter."

" Thank vou, Jim. And so it will. Ami whde you
are about it' you liad liettor throw on some fresh wood,

please."

With this interrui)tion disposed of, my companion
complete.1 the story of his recovery from a very dan-
gerous illness when on a hunting trip in the Rocky
mountains and far distant from mo.Ucal aid. ilean-
while Jim liad noiselessly a.ljusted the burning em-
bers ami replenished the tire witli fresh fuel, hut a
novice wouhl have obserxe.l that his exeee.lmg care to
make no noise betokened listening ears.

" Wal, I've got a good tiling to cure a feller when
he's sick," said Jim, " and if yous d.m't miml I'll tell
vuli about it."

As there was a good opening ami nothing pressing,
Jim was invited to procee.l, but just here a wor.l in
reference to Jim seems o|iporlune.

Vt the little wavsule inn on the edge of the wdder-
„ess where we met our guides and spent th<. night he

Vbbaoious Jim.

425

first came ander oar notice. A boy's awkwardness
linked with a boy's frankness, his droll way and evi-
dent humor, his taste for adventure and love for life
in the woods, his drawling intonation and habit of
ending his sentences in the rising inflectiou, as if to
indicate that his thought tank always held something
in reserve — interested us in him, and but little negotia-
tion was necessary to add him to our corps of assist-
ants for our adventure through the woods, over the
mountains, upon ruffled lakes and beside the rippling
streams in that section of the state of Maine where
the watershed divides the waters of t'.e Androscoggin
from the Kennebec.

lie had reached that undetermined time in life
when he might bp called a lad, youth, boy or man —
but the world had probably carried him twenty times
around the sun, and his system and appearance gave
abundant evidence of generous response to the action
of the centripetal and centrifugal forces. He was
enlongated beyond his years, and like the white bircli
sapling whose trunk is not sufficient to support its
superincumbent weight, his inclined head, stooping
shoulders and shuffling gait told of inroads already
made by the action of the latter force.

The passing days had been rapidly gathered into
weeks of unalloyed pleasure, and now night found our
camp made andcamp-fire blazing beside thelakelet made
famous in American history by Benedict Arnold and
his loyal band of brave Continental soldiers. And
Jim — plain, awkward, angular Jim — was now ready as
ever to be helpful in need and to evoke hearty laugh-
ter by disquisitions from his philosophy, explaining
pet theories, and the relation of ludicrous experiences.

426

Gatherkd Waiflets.

Jim had evidently been on terms of closest intimacy
with the members of the truth expanding club and
had profited by their doctrines until he doubtless came
to believe that his pronouncements were gospel truths
—and they were delivered with such apparent candor
that it would be very ungracious to question their
veracity or to manifest dissent.

"Wal Mariah Jackson she corned cross lots to our
house to borrer the sheep shears and she staid till
arter dark when she sed as how she was fraid to go
hum. Mar tole me to go hum with her and sum how
I didn't get back till purty late and nex momin' T
cndn't talk more'n our ole coon dorg. Mar sed 1
must go down to the village and see the doctor as she
feard 1 had got the noomonay. AVal the doctor sed I
was mighty bad and he rit suthin on a bit of paper and
he told me it was a prascripshon and if I wanted to
live 1 must foller it egzackly. Wal yer kin bet yer
ole boots I wanted to live and would live if foUerin
the prascripshon egzackly wud do the trick.

"Goin' over the bridge on the way hum the wind
riz my liat and ketehen it quick I let go of the pras-
cripshon and it blowed into the river Then I wanted
to live more'n ever and I j-imped right in and foUered it
eg.iackly as the Doctor tole me. When I got out of
the water I was as cold as a big isikel, bu^ I run hum
fast like and got right into bed with the prascrip-
shon and got well rite off. If yuh fellahs want a good
medicine yuh ort to get a prascripshon and foller it."
"Well, Jim, you were in luck for sure. But which
would you prefer— a flying race through the air with
angels or the trip down the Djad river to-morrow in
canoes with nai"

Veracious Jim.

'» 'I

427

"Wal I dnnno, seen as I never flied with wings, bnt
I flied onct I tell yer."
"Yon did, Jim. Do tell us about it, won't you ?"
"Wal it was this way. Dad he said Jim you go up
to the woodlot this artemoon and salt the cattle, and
be sure and see if they are all there. Jack, thats my
brother, was rakin hay with the ole mare and so it was
shank's horse or the old bisykle with me. The lane
was purty good doin and so I straddled the masheen
and lit out. When I got to the pastur I found all the
cattle but tlie old spotted cow and a yeariin' heifer. I
went up the ole tote road lookin for em and took the
masheen along so as to hide it in the bushes.

"Wal I went and I went and I looked and I looked
but I couldn't find anything of the critters. I kept it
up till the sun got dovn below the treetops and I
made up my mind to give up the hunt. AVhen I got
back so I could see where I left my bisykle, by jim-
iny blazes what dye think I see i— a gol darned big
buck eyin and spyin the mashenn. He had a great
big set of horns like a rockin chair on his head and
they was covered with velvet. lie was cockin his
head, a snuffin and turnin and by gol I stood and
looked and laffed to myself to see such a caperin
But all at once liis horns got itchy or he got mad
and went buttin at the masheen and I hollered at him
f-T fear he would break it. He reared upon his hind
legs to dash away when, great Scott, his horns were
through the wheels and away he scud like a flash with
the masheen upon hia head. But he didn't go far be-
fore one of the wheels caught upon a limb of a tree
and then, gee whizz, you ort to see the circus. Bnt I
couldn't wait to see the fun for fear he would break

^Vli

f i

i J

428 Gathbihd Waiflbtb.

everything to pieces. I got up to him as soon as I
could but he struck at me so with his feet that 1
couldn't get a hold of the masheen any way I tried.
He had thrown his head up so high I don't believe I
could have reached it from the ground anyhow.

"Wal, I looked around and I couldn't see but one
thing to do. There was a small white birch tree grow-
ing a little ways off and I made up my mind to climb
it up to pretty near the top and swing off over to the limb
that stuck through the wheel and then pull it off from
the buck's horns. But yuh fellahs know how con-
samedly contrary things goes sometimes. Wal, that
is just the way that tree did. It let me down right
straddle of the critter and my weight broke off the
limb. I had just time to grab his horns when away
we went in a jiffy like a streak down the tote road !
Talk of yer flyin angels and autermobiles then ! Wal
I jest didn't hev time to think when we reached the
garden fence behind the house when over it he went
ker plunk ajd his front end was so heavy he struck on
his head and broke his neck, and for a fact he was kilt
ded, he was."

"Well, Jim, that was an experience indeed— an ex-
perience that few if any have ever had. But to land
a big buck right at the door of your home must have
pleased you' parents very highly."

"Wal no it didn't. He fell in our cucumber bed
and broke down all the vines and killed them, and
that was too bad."

"Yes, but was not that pretty late in the season
for cucumbers 2 It seems to me that the crop if put
in at the right time must have attained to maturity
long before."

WaVSIDE PiCTlRES.

429

" Oil, yos, yiire right. But our fust crop was all de-
stroyeil bi'foro we kuowed it. Yuli see it was this
way. One of tlieiii are sportsmen from <lown Massa-
chusetts way sent nnir a new kind of cat and when she
went to get some of tlie furst lot of cucumbers, bv gol
what d'ye think f — ther sot tlio Massachusetts cat
under the vines eaten the last cucumber! Wal, that
ole cat was out of the way before we got over our
mad. But the funniest thing yuh ever heerd tell of
is that all the younguns she left behind looked like
cucumbers and their tails looked jest like cucumber
vines 1 We are now waitin' to see if " — but the snore
maker interfered and future generations have lost
the valuable lesson in biology or the deductions from
the wisdom and philosoi)hy of Veracious Jim. — Maine
]V(iotli<, Juinuiry 39, I'JOl.

■i'il

I l1

WAYSIDE PICTURKS.

THE dregs of life abound anil obtrude their un-
welcome sliadows in plentitude, but for no
length of time if ever are they in sole posses-
sion, noi- are they necessarily overwhelming. The
nectar of life is not wholly withheld from even the
unfortunate who may chance to be born under the

•■ 1

I !

:: I

430

Gathered W.mfi.eth.

most unfiivornble planetary juxtaposition of tlic astrol-

Dregs and nectar mix ami interlace, forming the
weft an<l woof of the fabric called life, brilliant hues
and sombre colorings blending in the mosaic. Man
living but little in the present, involuntarily turns to
the varied sun-lit i)ictures, tlie ganiering of years,
stored in memory's casket, and which form a pleasing
panorama reaching from youth to latest years. Abid-
ing companions they penetrate the deepest gloom ami
brighten the darkest hour. Tid-bits of life not im-
portant in themselves yet as refreshing and invigorat-
ing as a sunmier shower.

Tlie lover of nature, he who delights to woo her in
lirr solitudes far from the liaunts of men, has photo-
graphed on his mind endless pictures not elsewhere to
be found that rival the artist's most successful limning.
Uppermost in our thoughts just now is an early
morning gem from the wihls of Maine. The days of
September of a not distant year were rapidly drawing
to a close, the neighboring mountain peaks were
capped with snow, while in the valleys below the
cardinal (lower (L. Caidimitis) in all its gorgeous
wealth of color, seemed like nature's wail of protest to
the further advance of winter. The embers had
burned low in our camp-fire on the shore of Crosby
Pond, and as night wore away we were awakened by
its chilliness. (Quietly arising from our bed of boughs
of fragrant spruce and hemlock, so as not to disturb
the other sleepers, we stealthily essayed to replenish
it. A kindred spirit, H. S. S., tried and true, a boon
camp companion of many summers and winters in the
wilderness and in other Sportsman's a.lventures, was

i .

Waykidb Pictures.

481

Boon at my side, the rtre again blazing brightly and
lending an added charm and bestowing a genial
warmth throughout the camp.

Water was boiling and soon we regale<i ourselves
with a cup of fragrant chocolate. The dawn was break-
ing in the east and we decided to paddle to the upper
end of the lake, some miles distant, to get enough trout
at the inlet for breakfast. We were about to step
into a canoe when we were joined by one of our
guides, who was ever ready to "blige us, and who ex-
pressed a desire to accompany us.

Pushing off from shore he asked if we had a rifle
with us. We answered that when we go for trout we
go for trout, and besides the law would not permit the
taking of deer until after another midnight.

"Very well," said he, "but one does not know what
he may see above the island up there."

Paddling along quietly though swiftly, the water
broke over our bow and sparkled like a shower of
gems in the rising sun. The god of day had rolled
resplendent above the horizon as we passed the upper
end of the island.

"Hold," said Jack softly, "see the deer on our left"

There, not two hundred yards away, stood a mother
doe and her full grown fawn feeding on the lily pads.
Jack whispered to keep perfectly still and let him
manage the canoa

The sun in all its gorgeousness at our back and the
wind directly from the west enabled Jack to bear
down upon them unperceived. Slowly and noiselessly
we made advance until less than fifty yards divided us.

What a sunrise picture !

A monntain background overgrown with a dense

432 Gathbbsd Waiflkts.

g^wth of evenreen, . pUeid lake -^ '^^^ "^^

mouth while eating! ._^ ^jj^^^,

Minutes succeeded minutes wuiio

wrapt admiration of the scene. „,nhablv

The sun soaring aloft above our head prob-b y

«ll..wed the mother to -^P^ ;Toot™to Imfve
She gave a sudden stamp «ith her foot as if to re
V,'.- „ dv in ft few minutes snap went her flag, an

to fish tliat raornms ii» Amateur

eamp without making a single rateh.-Tfte 4rna

Sportsman, July, 1S92-

SPORTSMANSHIP.

1492 1892.

THE Columbian year is upon us and the honr of
retrospection and reflection is at hand. The
frail caravels of Columbus that ventured out
upon the unknown seas from the port of Palos, August
3, 1492, present a strange contrast with the huge and
staunch ocean greyhounds of our day, but never sailed
other fleet with destiny more grand and consequence
so great to the human race. The evolution and devel-
opment of sea-going craft from the days of Columbus
to the present time well typify the evolution and devel-
opment of our civilization.

We are not unmindful of the fact that Columbus
saw the days of the Renaissance, that printing was
already au fait accompli, that the parchment had
received the immortal De Civitate Dei of Augustine
some nine hundred years before, and that Thomas
Aquinas illumined the world and earned the title of
"Father of Moral Philosophy" some centuries before
the diucoverer of the New World was born.

Neverth(!less, but few of the many had ascended to
the mountain heights of learning and medievalism
and feudalism enveloped the masses. As through a
valley of darkness, the hnman race has journeyed
Tor centuries, ever striving and struggling upward
toward the civilization of the nineteenth century — ever
seeking to attain to the hpaven-born ideal with the

i 1

.;■ ■ i

I i

^f^^ oathkrrd Wmklkts.

.ame loyalty and devotion that the needle wek. the

'^To the superficial and nnthinking it may seem that
revolution and retrogreasion were scattered vath too
„,uch profusion along the pathway of centuries to ju.t^
Uy such assertion but a dive below the surface and a
closer examination reveal these as phi osophic mean,
to an end. The mephitio afnosphere, for its punfloa-
tion and to render it salubrious and -ho esome, need,
he lightning's flash, which may work individual injury
and death, 'he needle may be disturbed and deflected
by external perturbation, but its tendency is ever the

'"sportsmanship is an attribute of the highest civiUza^
tion and flourishes most in countries hat have a t«ned
to the superlative in development. In primitive times
and n the patriarchal age. sportsmanship as we now
know it had no existence; in medieval times we dis^
cover but its n.ost imperfect and crude -d.mentB; m
feudal times it began to assume shape and form
which have been perfected and ennobled "' la " timcB.
until today it is fully in touch with the highest, best
and most progressive in our civilization.

The brotherhood of sportsmen now compass the um-
yerse and its members need not signs, grips nor pass-
word! to secure fraternal rocoKuition and compamon-
«hip, while the ti.. that binds is as strong as perBonal
worth and desert. The wedding garment of sports-
manship may not be bartered for gain nor to gra^^y
unworthy ambition, and if not worthily won. the nght
hand of fellowship is soon withdrawn from the mas-
querading imposter.

A Rio Lkttsb Day 48A

Its literature ii olaaiio, abundant and wholeiome
and no Zola defile*. In invention* and diicoverie*
that ameliorate and abbreviate the a*peritie* of life,
many of the mo*t important and valuable are the work
of him whose proudest title is that of brother sports-
man. He is no stranger in the bustling marts of com-
merce, nor in the halls of legislation; he graces the
judicial ermine on the bench, and many times has he
been called to the highest honor and dignity— to pre-
side as President over the greatest nation and freest
and most enlightened people on earth. It behooves its
devotees of the present time to he loyal to the tradi-
tions of the guild that have such worthy exemplifi-
cation in our own day, an honorable and venerable
antiquity, and to transmit to posterity unsullied its
priceless inheritance. — TAe Amateur Sportsman,
November, 1892.

A RED LETTER DAY ON A MASSACHUSETTS
TROUT BROOK.

TIME in his onward march has not yet meas-
ured a twelve-month since we went trout
fishing — a boon companion and myself. It
is true we have many times since angled in rippling
streams and ruflled lakes with satisfactory results, but
taken all in all the occasion referred to stands out in
our angling calendar as the red letter day and best
remembered of all.
The weather bureau had not been sending out to the

i !

r j

l;j- I

486 Gathbbed Waiklets

TMidents of the Old Bay State tempting, balmy zephyrs
^weie sunshine during the early weeks of the open
Ison. and this unfavorable weather helped to recon
oile us to the exactions of business cares. But ever
and anon would come unbidden the words of the
rhymster : —

"I love to dream by valley's stream
And live with quiet peace alone;
The brook and wood, the vale and tree
Are the green homes of joy to me."

The looked-f or day at length arrived and we took our
departure in the afternoon for a long d"ve into the
ooS The robins were in the midst of their domes-
tic ca7es and the swallows were busy bmlding their
hoJes of mud; the hill tops were clothed m deepest
jrn and herds of cattle and flocks of sheep lent an
!dded charm; tidy homes of comfort surrounded by
"iSy ^ZU hidges of arbor vitae and bU.min«
plants dotted the landscape; the air '«« «' «^ J^th the
iragrance of the blossoms of apple and cherry ^e
fl^St of fleecy clouds and the undulating outline of hiU
fofand distant mountain indistinctly defined against
Z ^nilean blue of heaven's dome- all seemed as a
tZ^i of sweet sounds that blended in harmony in
nature's undying symphony. t,„ftv,o

But the grandeur of the mountains, the beauty of the
landscape, the flowers of the meadows and the mosses
ofte wo^ds may charm the beholder and stiU human
perturbation for the moment, but they can never sat^-
fv the craving of the heart for other and tagger com^
p'alJn S. These are but the inferior links that bind

A Kbd Letter Dat.

487

him to a higher creation and tell him of a yearning
that may be content with nothing beneath himself in
the scale of created things. Such prized companionship
was mine on this occasion, as it had been many times
before in the depths of the forest in Maine, where we
made our campfire in the haunts of deer and caribou,
and where our frail birch canoe sought the gamey
trout that were often deceived by our feathered lure ;
as it also was many times on the hill tops, in other
parts of New England, for upland plover, and in
coverts and runs for grouse and woodcock; and our
guns have together sent the leaden messengers of
death to the prized canvass-back ducks and other sea-
fowl in the sounds and bays of Virginia and North
Carolina— and now the drive seemed all too short for
the fascinations of the present and the enchantments
of the scene.

The god of day had withdrawn his rays behind the
western hills and the stars peeped forth in the evening
twilight before we drew rein at the well-known farm
house where a cordial welcome awaited our coming.

In the early dawn we were at the bend below the old
bridge where the swift water ends in a deep pool. We
got down on hands and knees and noiselessly crept
sufficiently near the margin to cast into the pool unob-
served. In breathless expectation, moments seemed
minutes and minutes lengthened into hours. We
cast again and again without response. We essay the
rapids, letting our lure drift downward into the pool,
we direct it under the overhanging bank at the bend,
we gently and delicately cast into the deepest part until
it seemed as if we had cross-sectioned every inch of the
water— and yet no sign of Ufe or appreciation of our

! i

438 Gathered Waiflets.

best efforts. Keenest anxiety nerved our arms and

buoyant hope spurred us on.

An hour that seemed a week had passed and our
rainbow hues of sweet anticipation began to fade into
the sombre shades of disappointment.

Harry gently laid his rod on the grass and lighted a
cigar and breathed forth volumes of the fragrant weed,
and yet not a word was spoken.

Soon the slack of his line was noticed to be runmng
out and hastily grasping the butt of the rod the reel
joined in with the song that is such joyful music to
the fisherman. He is on his feet on the instant, and
the water is lashed into foam.

"Careful there, Harry,-oaref ul 1 Great gunsl
What a fine fellow he is !"

Artist that he is with trout rod and a nerve that
never loses its coolness, Harry needed no words of cau-
tion from me, but the transition from the shl ness and
quiet of a moment before was so sudden and the battle
began with such fury that the words came without
reflection from my lips.

"He is the king of them all. Doc, and a royal fight
he's going to make for his freedom. But I'm going to
stay with him."

The eddies from his powerful tail were already
breaking upon the banks and the bubbles of oam
were quietly drifting down the stream. Out of the
water Le leaps and tries to free himself from the cruel
barb, darts from side to side with the rapidity of
thought, sulks on the bottom; but there is a cool mas-
ter hand at the butt of the rod that is equal to every
emergency and that is quick to take every advantage.

A Rbd Letter Dat.

43»

He well maintained the reputation of the trout family
for impetuosity and fight, but he began to manifest
evidence of surrender and inability to further prolong
the contest. He was soon stretched at length upon
the grassy bank, and it was not without a pang of
remorse that we looked upon his royal beauty and
lordly size. He measured eighteen inches in length
and tipped the scales at two pounds and seven ounces.
We proffered words of congratulation, and returned
to the house for break .'ast. An hour soon passed, and
flushed with the experience and success of the morning,
we retraced our steps to the pool, but stopped long
enough on the way to gather a bouquet of violets that
bloomed in profusion by the wayside. Our tempting
lure was again offered to piscatorial beauty, and
hoping against hope we persist. Nearly an hour
passes when it is my good fortune to make anchorage
to another object of our ambition. After a good fight
I landed another candidate for our creel that measured
seventeen and one-half inches and weighed two pounds
five ounces. Felicitations and congratulations were
mutually indulged in, and at ten o'clock we were on our
way home with trophies that might gladden the heart
of less enthusiastic fishermen. Our Kodak accom-
panies us on our outings, and it tells the story of our
success in the accompanying illustration. To prevent
a possible suspicion of exaggeration, a foot rule may
bfc seen between the trout and we will add that it is an
ordinary foot rule of the market and not one made to
order.

I will only say in conclusion that our experience on
this occasion reverses the usual order, as we can truth-
fully claim that the biggest fish did not get away.— Tfce
Amateur Sportsman, May, 1893.

.■ ■

BOSES AND THOBNS.

it i

\ t

.1 !

LAUGHING and crying, jubilation and despond-
ency, pleasure and pain-and what are these
but another name for roses and thoms-the
sum total of life. Sunshine and darkness and day and
night seem not more indissolubly wedded nor more cer-
tain to follow each other.

For a time it may seem that the roses and thorns
of life are not equally distributed to persons and places,
some getting more than a just share of the roBes of joy,
and others, alas! ever enmeshed in and cruelly wound-
ed by the thorns of sorrow.

From the dawn of earUest reason to the hmits of
time this is in continual evidence, seek to change it as
we may ; but at no time in life is it more fully realized
Tha'wh'en going down the slope of lengthemng years
we grow tired and sit down beside the pathway of life
to take a retrospective look.

We note that the days of childhood passed rapidly
by when many of the seeming thorns of life blossomed
forth into the luxuriant bloom and fragrance of roses-
that the formative days of the schoolroom in the pulpy
adolescent years of life when dominant «f «1^-- --
not a factor-when innocent mirth and roystenng
laughter were not tinctured by the wormwood and gaU
of anxiety and servitude-roses were abundant and
thorns 7d not afflict; and when we -t loose from
school books and plumped into the activities of Ufe,

ROSIS AKD THOSttS

441

every gtride to be a step in advance and upward, we
tntiy determined to carve out a future in which no
thorns would be allowed to flourish.

We see the daring youth with his good right arm
bared for the conflict, and all untoward conditions
must capitulate or surrender. His face is wreathed in
smiles and Momus will be his constant companion,
pleasures and success will multiply as rapidly and ad-
here as closely as does the huge ball of snow grow in
volume and solidity as it rolls down the mountain side
on a thawing day in springtime.

And so he goes forth firmly in the belief, even
though he does not say so in words, as is attributed to
the Count de Monte Cristo, that "the world is minel"
and that it shall be all sweet scented roses. Alas ! He
has not yet encountered the fens of selfishness nor
their luxuriant growth of cruel thorns which lacerate
and wound.

He hurries along the pathway, his face upturned
toward the summit of life, but soon the sinuous way
leads into uneven paths and byways filled with obsta-
cles, when it dawns upon him that his fancy painted
fiction has no reality in the battles of life, and already
he realizes that the few roses have a siperabundance
of thorns. With the vigor and optimi a of youth he
redoubles his efforts and preses onward— obstacles he
will surmount and thorns he will trample upon and
crush beneath his feet !

But there comes a lull — the machinery is over-
taxed—life's struggles have become a heavy burden,
Nature cries out in protest and demands relief— the
thorns effectually block the way.

i i

* .

1 ]•:.

i i

44S

(JATHBRED WAirLBTS.

Thanks to the kindly interest of friends, to the se-
ductive word paintings of camp owners, the gilt-edged
Uterature of transportation companies, and over and
»bove all to the occular demonstrations and fascina-
tions of camp life in the wilderness brought more ef-
fectively to his door by sportsmen's exhibitions-he
learns of the extent of the forest, lakes, streams and
mountains of Maine and what they possess; of the
philanthropy of the people and the cordial greetings
that await his coming, the superabundance of roses and
the absence of thorns; the great pleasure, benefit and
success that are there in store for him and he is easily
persuaded to visit the land of roses so rosily painted.
Packing his largest trunk with bundles of reas-
surance and expectation, supplied with a modern cam-
era to take pictures of fish stories and of the unselfish-
ness of the people, and with plenty of good greenbacks
in his pocket as an effective remedy for a change ot
climate and to use in emergencies, he hies himself to
the Pine Tree state. .

Soon after his arrival he seeks a compamon to
help him kill the mosquitoes, to build smudge fires, to
share his larder, to divide his pleasures, to enjoy his
camp-fire, and to sleep under the same blanket with
him For these and siiuliar arduous duties he finds
plentv of men who are willins to undertake the task
f„r the trifling stipend ranKiHK fioni $J to $3 per day.
On inquiry \w (""!« that tho.e same men command
and revive a wage varying from $18 to $.S0 per month
swingiuK an ax in the woods and other similar employ-
ment It dawns upon him that camping out must be
i-vceedingly severe labor to justify such additional
compensation, or possibly it is because they make sucli

Roses and Thorwr.

448

hberal contributions to the fund for the propagation
and protection of the fish and game of the state which
provides so much employment for them at such very
remunerative wages— and so the rose. But as he is
something of a philosopher, he refuses to probe the
question farther lest perchance he discover a thorn!
A tote team is hired to transport the party and
supplies to camp and here again the price exacted sug-
gests a repi'tition of the experience of hiring his guide
—and again fhe rose is not in evidence and it becomes
necessary to '•-U the point of another thorn, and stiU
other and other thorns.

The next day after arrival in camp, he essays the
gentle art with the gaudy fly, but before setting out,
his companion, commonly V. own as guide, assures him'
that it now being midsummer even expert fishermen
may not expect the wary trout to rise to the most seduc-
tive fly, and that novice that he is, if he wishes trout
for the frj-ing pan, he must depend upon the festive
minnow as the only taking lure to reach them in deep
water. Here, at least, is a blooming rose, thinks he,
when the minow pail and live minnows are put aboard
the boat. For some time various flies are industriously
tried without success when a small minnow is attached
to the leader fly and allowed to sink to the depths. For
some time peace and quietness reiffn, broken only by
the arrival and departure of other boats and fishermen
with their guides who industriously but unsuccessfully
continue to whip the water with their favorite casts
of flies.

It is said that "everything comes to him who
waits, " and something came and took the minnow while
he waited— a very lively and determined something—

444

Oathkrid Waiflcts.

I i

and then and there there were antios in the water and
mnaio in the air.

Whiz-zz-zz-z went the reel, and darting hither and
thither went the maddened trout, and a battle royal
was on for snrel The line was deftly and quickly
reeled in and the slender split bamboo rod bending in
graceful ellipse with the strain gave him no slack line
and consequently no opportunity for escape.

Other fishermen came rapidly to the scene to wit-
ness the spirited contest and to await the result. In
due time he was in the landing net, a royal beauty and
the record trout of the season for size and weight.
Bravos and congratulations were voiced by the enthus-
iastic but unsuccessful fly fishermen, when one of their
number inquired, ' ' What fly did he take t "

Being told that it was no useless fabrication of
man but a live minnow, his guide sneeringly swd, "A
fly is good enough for us."

To the inquiry how many they took on the fly, he
turned away and went in an opposite direction, but did
not answer.

And so in the hour of his triumph his rose of suc-
cess must be defiled by the thorn of insult and the sneer
of malevolence and envy— by a stupid ingrate who was
probably getting double the pay from the very class he
so brutally insulted than he could get at any other
calling in his state.

Summing up the trip he finds that the trout caught
cost him more than $5.00 per pound, and even at that,
the greater number were returned to the water un-
harmed.

At a later time he made a winter trip and secured
a handsome buck that cost him upwards of $125— more

Rosig AWD Thobm. 445

than $100 of which was expended in the state. The
oaroas* of such a buck could be bought in the market
or from many of the people throughout the hunting
regions at a price ranging from $5 to «10, which leaves
something of a margin of profit for the benefit of the
people of the state.

"Abundance of moose!" "Abundance of cari-
bou!" "Moose and caribou on the increase!" so vo-
ciferously and persistently proclaimed from the house-
tops of the state, so to speak, for so many years were
the incentives to call our sportsman friend of the rose
and thorn, and many others, to the state for several
years where they expended large sums of money, but
owing to the probable extermination of the caribou and
the very limited number of moose, most of them re-
turned without the coveted trophy. And now with the
millions of dollars poured into the state by visiting
sportsmen, he is told that there are those within its
borders who contend that they do not already pay dear-
ly enough for what they get, and that there is clamor
for the enactment of a law that will exact a license fee
from them to protect an industry that now pays more
than a hundred fold profit to the state for the money
expended for its development and protection. Is it not
natural for him to conclude that the promised land of
roses grows an abundant crop of repulsive thorns?—
and that the tree of selfishness grows rapidly enough
'vithout official stimulus and fertilization!— PftiMtp's
Phonograph, Phillips, Maine, Dec. 8, 1903.

LAST NIGHT IN CAMP.

THE deciduous trees had been despoilea of their
summer garaiture; the migratory songsters
and sea-fowl had gone to their winter home
in the sunny south; the year was already old.

The distant wilderness had echoed and re-echoed
the report of the death dealing rifle; the naked
branches reached out as if in mute appeal for mercy;
the outstretched arms of the conifers were bent to
earth with their weight of purest snow as if in holy
benediction. ,

The last day of the open season was spent; the
moon and stars journeyed in silence through space;
the revelry of the camp alone broke the stillness. Sal-
Ues of wit, the relation of adventure that ended in suc-
cess, snatches of song, cheers of aypreciation and roy-
stering laughter told of buoyant manhood, the gemal-
ity of companions, their ability and resourcefulness.

The two weeks of camp life in the wilderness in
the deep snows of mid-winter had flown all too quick-
ly-the close season was at hand-this was the las
night in camp. Mirth and melody, fun and frohe, jes
and jolUty now had the floor and reigned supreme until

"In the wee sma hours ayant the twal"

adjournment was made to restful, bUssful beds fash-
ioned of the tender boughs of fragrant spruce and fir.

LiiT NioRT IK Camp. 447

when oonioiou. wai exchanged for unoonsoiouB oere-
bration in the land of dreams.

Soon after, the mantle "that cover, all human
thoughts" had enveloped the camp and hushed the ex-
nberance of the jolly sportsmen in deepest forgetful-
ness, the dream maker waved his magic wand and the
erstwhile log camp of the sportsmen was suddenly
transformed into a frontier schoolhouse with its coarse
board benches and rude furnishings. And laughable
as It may seem, of all men in the world. Pa Stanley
wielded the rod of the schoolmaster I Ed Grant, Bob
Phillips, Joe St. Ober, Andrew Douglass, Herb Heal,
Leon Orcutt, Luther Gerrish, John Haynes and other
well known faces were seen among the pupils.

The schoolmaster's side lights had grown so long
that he had them tied with a green ribbon in the form
of a bow upon his breast, a sunburst crysanthcmura
decorated the lapel of his coat, his clothing represented
the highest attainments of the tailor's art, his features
intellectual and refined, and his deportment as digni-
fied and winsome as if top-dressed at both ends of the
season with cart-loads of tactful urbanity.
The teacher evidently was wisely selected.
School was called to order, the younger members
were soon lost in juvenile problems, the older ones
were called for recitation, or for a conference upon
matters pertaining to the various vocations upon which
they were about to enter for tticir life work. Of the
latter Ed Grant and Bob Phi! ,pa were the first upon
the gridiron.

"Well, Mr. Grant, my young man," said the mas-
ter in his most mellifluous, heart w inning way, "now
that you are about to get through going to school, I

I i

|i . 1'

448 Gathkreb Waifi.«t».

.„npo«, yon have your nund made up a. to what yoj.
areSgto do to earn a Uvingt And r'^'^^J^
T InV I hope you will achieve distinguished suo-
"": in wLteveTJou undertake and prove an honor to
Tr stale What\uBine« do you intend to pursue.

'°"Do„":rknow for sure yet." said Grant "Bob

guiding buBineas eitlier. oai u

F,1 vou can do well enough gmding, 1 know. o
Ser^swhenthere-snogui.^^^^^^^^^^

up what spare t,me >- ^-;'^;^;« "^^ fl^hennen,
next party, or the next >«" «j;P ;* ^^^^^^ ,„a teach

and for a «=^-«y-^7 H— b wiU huy them
them to walk, borne oi vu« ^^^j

f.om you to t'^'^^/"- S^^^iltA^^^^^^^^^^^

of trout we now have in Ma.«e ^^^.^ ^^^^^^

took a Land and spend $-a,UW a ye»

'Torralkt'rurBob. b„t ta^, however sweet,
"Oh, talk 18 cluap, ^^^^g^, „„

one wanting to buy dry land trout

"WeU, got "'- -"/^iTto'^lt'emollientWm
:t:b!r:;ranlir::tLwrinkles. ..hey

Lam Nioht ik Cakp. 449

can pau the examination easily enough and it will only
ooBt a dollar to put them into the same data with the
old and experienced guides. "

" The Maine Woods I The Christmas Maine Woods I
All about camp life in the woods, and how to straddle
a fence and not fall off on either sidel" rang out the
tuneful trade compelling voice of Jim Brackett as he
guided ,i:s panting reindeer into the school yard and
oomulsi.,1 th- Rc! -ol with roars of laughter, in which
the go'd . u-ired sclio I master was forced to join.

!'-acr was rtn.illy .stored and studies resumed,
wh.!, up wont ,»■ l,,„.a that everyone recognized as
being tliP ,v,o ihat J<,l u Haynes wore suspended from
Ills ngl't sl.ouldnr.

" V\\li, Jon, .. lii.t is itf " said the man of erudition
and eqiinnii ii*y.

"Pleasf, sir, Leon Orcutt says Andrew Douglass can
walk a moose to a standstill for his customer to photo-
graph and play tag with. I don't know but Leon may
be guying me, or stretching it a little, but if he isn't
I'd like to know what brand of an automobile Mr.
Douglass uses in the woods over in the Dead River
region to chase moose to a standstill with."

Luther Gerrish moved uneasily about upon his seat
and two or three knowing nods signified his interest
in the inquiry.

"Will Mr. Douglass be kind enough to explain?"
said the master.

"Well," said Andrew Douglass, "I've done the
trick on shank's horses more than a few times and I
can do it again. I was born some time ago, before the
dollar-in-the-slot guide was invented and turned out

il'-

^i .

'if-

''I

' ! .

•^

Ij, J.

■ !

':. ■

450 Gathered Waiflkts.

in job lota to beat out his betters and hoodwink the

gportgrnen, andlhave" . „# «,-

Eap-a-tap-ta,^rap-a-tap-tap upon the door of the
camp^uiet instantly reign^and all eyes are tu^ed
to g^upon the newcomer. The door was opened
and its size was taxed to its utmost to permit him to

'"rlistaff never seemed more corpulent or better con-
tented with himself. Strange to ^^r ;^; ^^''J^
tume from head to foot was decorated with Uncle
Sam's promises to pay-in gold notes, silver certifi-
cates, national bank currency-money, money, money,
top, bottom, sides and middle-money, money, all!

As soon as the pupils could withdraw their JB^-m
the latest arrival and his extraordinary and unique
tume and look at him squarely in the face, i was
discovered that he was no other than Leroy Carleton,
altTough his usual imperious and stern features were
now wrestiied in 6x9 smiles.

He begged pardon for his seeming intrusion and

ab?uptne?s, b^t when he assured them that he now

had mon y enough to hire them all and an army of

r^ r^t bi^ nay for game wardens, the schoolhouse

S sho« cheefs. He further announced that

he now had money enough that cost nothing to buy up

half of Maine, that he was going to so foster and pro-

tbVg game that it would soon overflow the state, and

that a shipment would be made to the less favored

Inl :pon the planet of Mais by the first through hm-

" TUeTtrt detennination of the teacher was called
into reSisition to stem the torrent of enthusiasm and

Thic Camp ik thk Wildebnbss. 451

excitement which followed. Having secured a modicnm
of order, the teacher continued :

"Toung men, it is fortunate for us to have with us
to-night such an extraordinary man. Yon know the
name Leroy comes from the French Le Boi— the king,
but as we do not have kings in "

"Come boys! Dreamin 'time has run out 1 Get up!
broke in the cook. Breakfast is about ready and we
must hit the tote road for an early start to reach the
settlement before night."

And thus ended the last night in camp, as does
everything else in this world, in reaUties and— dreams.
Maine Woods, Dec. 18, 1903.

THE CAMP IN THE WILDEENESS.

"You may break, you may shatter the

vase if you will,
But the scent of the roses will cling round

it still."

TIME runs rapidly away. The year is already
old. Its days are numbered. Kindly Nature
spreads her mantle of purest snow as a fitting
shroud for the burial.

And the children of men do well to speed the passing
of the old as they greet the coming of the New Year—
with cheering song and gladsome mirth, with backs
turned towards the setting sun of the past, and up-

'j': 't 'i

^52 Gathered Waiflets.

turned faces looking to the rising sun of the future
with thanksgiving and high resolve

The past is history, and the future-who knowsj
The camp in the wilderness! what a type of Ufe-of

tri,ti;tt? « c .- -.■»»•.

and robust manhood in the ^'''""'"f^VX " of the

Thy coming into existence was in the sunshine of the

noli^nt past-the springtime of thy ?-- ^tj

"wlrthands firmly laid thy hearthstone and y^^tn-

IsrofTdorous «7— ji-;;:f;tro

pleteness, adornment and comfor^a type

duly equipped for the battle "f W«^ ^ ^^,

Ld join., bi»« 'r ""S ' hOo^. « "

sportsman's song, old-time ballads, bn"« ^

skilful repartee, snatches from the tragedies
Sespeal, and otW -"^^^^P^^^^^^^^

.rr^inrri:s:rwith the odors of

Thb Camp in thb Wildrhnkss. 453

frying moose-steak and onions, attested the skill of
the cook and tempted the appetite— and here is the
type of the young man, at the flood-tide of success,
before he reaches the span of mid-life.

But times change and people change with them, and
this alas ! brings thee to thy days of old age and decrep-
itude before thy time, and to none does it come with
more force and sadness than to the large corps of
guides and other employees who shared in thy pleas-
ures as fully as their employers who generously shared
with them the work of the camp and upon the trail, and
mad 5 them handsome pecuniary and other compensa-
tion in addition.

Brave boys! boys of ability! boys kind of heart!
boys willing and obliging! faithful boys! thy many
letters of kindly appreciation and praise of the past
awaken old associations and thy oft expressed regrets
at being compelled to exchange the happy experiences
and pleasantries and generous compensation of the
sportsman's camp for the labor, drudgery and little
pay of the logging camp, touch a responsive chord, and
thy touching appeals for the renewal of old time adven-
tures and pleasure.^ are sadly pathetic— but the die is
cast, the Kubicon is passed, the pitcher is broken at
the fountain, and henceforth our mocassins will leave
their imprint in other lands, our paddles will vex
other waters, and the erafk of our rifles will echo
and re-echo in other wilds.

The "give more" policy for the already overpaid —
the demand that visiting sportsmen must assist in
policing the state — is now clothed with all the formality
of law, and the mailed hand of avarice thus raised is
an effectual barrier to deter and repel.

' 1 A

'I 'i'l

454 Gathbrbd Waiflbts.

Good-by, old o«mp, good-by. .^. ^,

Thy hallowed walls that once throbbed with the
warmth and geniaUty of life are now « still w death
and as cold and damp as the tomb of the Capn ets. The
snows of winter now cover thee as with a pall and the
silence of the charnel house reigns in the surrounding
wilderness; undisturbed and unrebuked the porcupiiie
may burrow underneath thy walls, the weasel and the
fisher may make a playground upon thy roof and the
timid deer and lordly moose may browse unheeded
upon thy doorsteps.

Since the day when the Solons, wise in their conceit,
or who may have perchance surrendered their convic-
tions and better judgment to the importumty and dom-
ination of others, set new metes to the stranger withm
thy gates, thy latch-string has been unused and no
lamp fire has been lighted upon thy hearth; thy mute
protests against the injustice of the times has been
unavailing and thy many appeals for old time adven-
tures and pleasures are unheeded.

Alas! old camp, thou hast fallen upon unhallowed
days and thy timbers are condemned to premature
Sy-a Biient monument to the legal enactments
lade to meet and mend "a condition and not a

%°hT old records tell of seasons of adventure, days of
triumph, laughter provoking episodes and long winter
e"g spe't in roystering pleasures with compan-
ions tried and true-and these lend a charm to the
tec ing past and tell of a place where sweetest mem-
oneT^U ever cluster and delightful remimscences wiU
ever And an abiding home.

TRtvog Wmb and Othmwisk. 455

Paraphrasing the words of the poet:—

We may try to forget the log camp if we will,
But loving old memories wUl cling to it still.
Good-by, old camp, good by.

(As we understand it, Dr. McAIeer does not like
Maine's license for non-resident sportsmen, but does
like our guides.— Ed.) Maine Woods, Dec. 18, 1903.

THINGS WISE AND OTHERWISE.

"A little nonsense now and then
Is relished by the best of men."

THEEE are places where game abounds that
are shown on no sportsman's chart; there
are ways and means for its capture not
laid down in sportsmen's publications.

One such place came under r.iy observation and one
such method was brought to my attention some years
since when jacking deer was considered good form and
had legal sanction. The place still exists, and as the
method is somewhat novel and not likely to materially
aid in the extermination of devr, with or without legal
sanction, I may be pardoned for making it public now
with attending incidents and experiences.

Deer Bog— that is the place— but you will look in
vain for it on any map, or in the advertisement of any
camp-owner whose seductive words are often the net

iORJISV-^'

f I

\v\

450 Gathkrbd Waiflbts.

to catch the dollars of the tenderfoot and unwary

^CrB°o«.-deer bog.-rather a fetching najne. eht
-and one Ukely to recall many stirring adventures of

TelllerTit was one night in the rapidly lengthen
in^y ears agone that two noble bucks paid the penalty
of over curiosity or over confidence, or both.

The place!-oh. yes! but I crave to be e:.oused if I
a Jnot morV Bpecifil-it is up in Canada in the Megan-
t^Country-off toward the Boundary Mountains

ack Boy e Uves up that way-Jack has made many
ttso exploration and discovery-and the location
of Deer Bog is one of his secrets that I do not feel at

"t^ ;:on::f the many verifications of the old adage
whic .ay. that "valuable goods are done up in^maU
marcels " He is well versed in woodcraft, wilhng,
chee ul companionable; he can carry a heavy pack,
rp:imaster^fpadd.and2"---t^^^^^^
r sLryrrp bl!rt ^ woods^and to inm
I refer the reader ao the proper sign post to po.nt the
way more definitely to Deer Bog.

^"^ r ""^ °n^"orgto^ n^-he'd

r::ron!nK we .t forth upon ^^^;^-
the mountains to take advantage of the ope™ng^
the Deer season in Canada, ^^Pt'^f "^'. ^ friendly

Thihos Wieg AND Othbrwwb. 457

our arrival at the club honse on Spider Lake several
honrs beyond the time planned. Here we Imrned that
another party had gone up Spider river, where we
had planned to go;-but Jack, to use an expressive
modern colloquialism, always has "something up his
sleeve" for emergencies, and to please and bring suc-
cess to his employer.

To this seeming untoward yet fortuitous circum-
stance IS due my introduction to Deer Bog and the
possession of two noble bucks weighing respeotivelv
205 and 240 pounds.

Journeying from the club house several miles by
water and team we at length drew rein at the log cabin
of an habitant near the edge of the woods. As he could
speak no English, I was about to polish up my very
limited knowledge of parlez vous Francois and start it
going at him, when the very unusual sight of a win-
some Canadian lass with auburn hair and hazel eves
appeared upon the scene and accosted us in English.
I noticed that her cordiality was not that of a stranger]
and that for Jack, at least, the place might be both
dear and deer bog, and a possible explanation of his
interest in the locality.

But Jack is married now and this, as the novelist
says, is another story.

It was late in the afternoon and we had yet a couple
miles to travel on foot through the wootls— some of
the distance over an old portage road and some
through swamp and dense undergrowth. The horse
having been cared for, and telling her our errand, we
took our departure for the adventure of the night at
the bog, accompanied by her oft repeated e.xpression
of good wishes for our success and safe return.

1 i

45g Gathkrbd Waiklbts.

Arriving after a hurried walk, which induced pro-
fuse per.piration. at our destination in the rapidly
deep«lg twiUght. Jack Bought his old dug-out where
it had been safely cached since the previous season
and dragging it over the yielding, mossy surface of the
^g, welfunched it upon the water. A few yards back
was what appeared to be a flag pole standing upright
Tn !hl bog. Tack was somewhat puzzled and troubled
about this and, in answer to my If ««»""«• ^^J^^^'
thought that someone must have ^^^^'^f'^'^^l
of the way and favorite place of his, and had been
:Imptng here, and that the pole was probably erected

^"we'sTof i two noble bucks, the Umit allowed by
law, "biled the kittle," improvised a heUor for the
St, and slept the sleep of the tired and successful

''w"e earliest dawn we started out for the team
ani assistance to bring out the game. Arnving at
the cabin the daughter wa.. surprised and delighted
wten told of our succe.s», which to appear gallant we
It'ributed very laiK^.y to her goo.1 wishes for our suc-

^^Tiif ;=";r ::Liu,ous at .. .. ^^
--^t^?:r^^:^o-r;t--^^i

daush.er as rapidly interpreted.

"m fader, he wants to know if you got dose decres

''^.B!'L?-oh! yes,-we jacked them," I replied,
when the meaning of her question dawned upon me.

Thinos Wwk and Othkrwtise. 459

This being told to him .eemed to increase his sur

oetween all the members of the household.

The interpreter resumed her task with-"My fader
he says you are big hunter fer sure. He go on same
place some tarn, den some more tam. den'^mo™ Um
apn, and he hang him light on pole and stay all night
and no deers come. No, no,-for sure "

anv?.?' '""T"'' ""' lanternf-and did he whistle
anyT I inquired.

'•We haf only one lantern, but I don't know about
whistle him. 1 will ask my fader bout dat "

haiti: ;r ""'^ ''' '^"''•"'- '''"'"'"'' ""•» '^--''

hn'.^^i/^'''" !u^' ''"" "" ^"'"^- «* '"y y°» know

bout all dose thing for get deeres, and will you tell
him all bout fire way lak one big frien' "

"Won you tell your father he must get another Ian-
tern an.l put up another pole opposite the one now
there, aiul fastern a lantern high up on each pole He
must th,.n get in his canoe and take his place mid-way
between them and whistle a jig or other lively dancing
tune occasionally. You know deer are lively and jovial,
and have a good ear for music. Then when the deer
come running down the mountain si.le and plunge into
the water looking for th,- ,,msic. he can get a good shot.
By having « lantern on either side he can 5oe both wv ^ ^
which will double his chances for getting In*, irnm:. "

This information elevated me in the estimat-^u of
all to a higher level as a mighty hunter, and secuAd
generoux words of admiration, praise and thanLs

Just then Jack announced that he had the tea t ir
readiness, and as our fire-hunting friend was to accom-

1 1

460 Gathebid WAiriiTs.

pany him, I took my leave and pointed the toes of my
mocoaains toward Spider Lake, where Jack overtook
me soon after I reached its shore. We loaded the deer
into our canoe and a paddle of a few miles landed us at
the Club house where we were showered with heartiest
congratulations and praise.

I have never heard whether or not our "flre-hunt-

ing" friend was successful in getting "deereit" by ray

improved method of jacking, and I have not deemwi it

judicious to make personal application to ascertain.

Land and Water, October, 1904.

HUNTING BIO GAME IN WINTER.

OUB party of four persons left the Hub of the
Universe, November 21, for ou. annual hunt-
ing trip for big game in the woods of Maine.
We did not expect nor desire to kill the limit allowed
by law, but thought just one good large bull moose for
each would do; and who would be content with less,
when he had killed other large game in abundance
during many years. To place the matter of getting
our moose beyond all reasonable doubt, we planned
to go into the very heart of the wilderness of Northern
Maine where the human voice is seldom heard and the
human form is seldom seen.

We arrived at Presque Isle the following afternoon,
where we were met by our head guide and one of his
assistants, with two heavy wagons, drawn by teams of
four horses each, to transport our party and their im-

IN TMt NORTtlCRN WILOS

Ut^ri!"^%%^

, AROOSTOOtt

COUNTXMAINEy

THANK5CIVINC DlNNER,N0VEMBEfl25l897*

PIMMBmON (MnM. -SOUP-

CMICKEN CUnBO HUUICATAWNEr

SWUKUlrRINCHAIII) -FISH-

FWrowOIIED FLYCMAatM

5F«t WMAIM rWCH ^ INTHEFS'

srUffED DEER5 HEARTS
BOIIED CARIBOU AND Dtt({b fO«CU[5
IIWINSrtlNCMUIIIIMtt -R0A5T5-

5APPU OFVtNISON. LOMIOF CARIBOU
LARDED CROOSt
^ -VFCtrABLES-

™''?5JJJK? WliD^NPFRltD ONIONS
MAINE 6Win CORN TOHAIOIS

-KEII3HIS-
CURRANr JEllH: CHiniBIHIniAUtll.MIAED
HllllfAWOKtrsitKSniKE SAuct

- M-iSFKT-
(.INtfKbRlAUMINCLAND APFLF Mt
tH0COLA)> CKIAMb.KAI-JNS. NUTS

, CMriE !» MrNTHL "" ""'eicAM

f WllllAMTIAHtEr B0iT0K;HA53Jpfr,5 LAVLWAY

MlC«OCOfY ftCSOLUTUN TIST CHART

(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2)

A APPLIED IM^GE

1653 EosI Mail Sl'».

Hunting Bio Game in Winter. 46i

pedimenta to Wb camps on Big Machias lake-
McGowan pond, Clayton lake. Carr pond and Portage
lake being not far distant and accessible from the n>Z

Sdi" "" '"'"'' ""°*^-'^^ •""- "-th of Mt
Our manager and host informed us that he had never

while cut into deepest ruts by heavy teaming during
the fall rams, and he counselled us to remain over nfZ
where we were and start in the early morning for ou
drive into the wilderness more than forty miles dis
taut, a the same time expressing his willingness to
drive all n.ght if we so preferred. A lodge of delibera
tion was opened and the pros and cons debated For
a time It seemed settled that we were to enjoy the
comforts of a good hotel for the night, when the exu-
berant enthusiasm of some members of the party for
an immediate departure prevailed, and at 3.30 o'clock
m the afternoon of a keen winter's day, the procession
slowly moved out upon the old AUegash road-the
roughest turnpike and woods road imaginable

a Castle IIilI, a distance of only eight miles from the
place of our departure. Here the party divided, the
conservative portion remaining over night, and the
more ambitious and energetic pushing on to Ashland
where they arrived in the gray dawn of morning and
into camp the following night, where they were joined
by their companions a day later.

On their return to camp after the first day's explore-
tion, enthusiasm reigned supreme. Evidence of deer
innumerable had been encountered, much caribou sign
noticed, and three moose yards, containing seven

462

Gathered Waiflbts.

mooBe, located. No deer or caribou were to be shot
until the moose had been secured, and as the ground
was covered with the quality and quantity of fluffy
snow that rejoices the heart of the still hunter, why
should we not indulge the wildest anticipations for the
morrow.

With all the enthusiasm of schoolboys, we retired
early, impatient for the coming dawn. Alas ! and alas !
for so it hath been and will be; for, verily, anticipation
and disappointment doth often travel as closest com-
panions.

Long before day we were aroused from sleep by a
dreary, dismal storm of wind and rain that fell upon
the camp and smote our hearts as would the mourn-
ful notes of a funeral dirge.

All the day long and the following night and day,
Jupiter Pluvius took malicious delight in tearing great
holes in his largest clouds, and made us close prisoners
in camp. While every one sought the silver lining, yet
every effort to arouse and buoy up drooping hope
seemed superlative irony.

But Boreas asserted his reign during the second
night, and morning dawned with a temperature several
degrees below zero, and a crust upon the snow, which,
under the trampling foot, made a noise that could be
heard many yards' away.

To hunt for moose under such conditions was entire-
ly out of the question, and so deer and caribou were
sought, and not without success, although the condi-
tions were highly unfavorable.

At the end of the week a severe snowstorm set in
and all turned out seeking again to locate the monarchs
of the forest The places where they had already been

HiNTi.vd Bi„ Game ix 'Wixtkr. 4(;.",

located wore approached with utmost caution oulv
to find tliat th.y had souglit shelter elsewh.Te"
proniptnife' tlie conclusion tliat witli coniin- wint-r tliey
had depaiteil to their permanent winter cpiarters far
up some mountain si.le. During tlie day following a
fine youns bull rewar.led the eflorts of one of our partv
and this proved the only moose killed during the trip.
They had evidently gone so far from camp that thj
guides volunteered to go in pursuit and endeavor to
locate them, the mend)ers of the partv to remain ahout
camp ami kill other game. Three of them set out, the
thermometer bei.ig 7 degrees below zero, taking with
them only their ordinary clothing, rifles, a small axe
and a pack containing a few biscuits, salt pork, a tea-
pot and some tea. They journeyed over mountain peak
and through swamps of densest growth, and covered a
dozen miles when they halted for the night. Their
frugal meal was soon disposed of and then began the
chopping by turns, which was kept up all night to pre-
vent them from freezing. By a different route they
returned to the camp the n.'xt night an. . ported that
no moose sign had been discovered. Two of the guides
made another unsuccessful attempt in another direc-
tion, remaining out over night, the thermometer being
10 degrees below zero. But as severe a test of human
endurance as came under our observation on the trip,
and one seldom equalled, occurred oiu- day wlien one
of our guides, son of the proprietor of the camps, went
over the mountain beyond Big Machias lake to
McGowan pond on a moose exploring expedition. He
ascended to the summit of the mountain, the effort
causi bundant perspiration, and, discovering noth-
ing, 1 descended the slope nearest to camp, hoping

4,.4 (iATIlEKKD WaIFLKTS.

to find .ome yarde.l upon that ^ide of the mountain,
le arrived at the edge of BiK Maclna. r.vor a u -

tot hrouKh snow fiftoon inches .U-ep. and yhen he
I'chl! cai he could step hut a few inches at a tune,
liU eU)thing being frozen stiff.

^ t o' h^. r deserts. Our offaris about the camp
Xmr-^--Utions resulted in kilUng three

i caribou and four splendid buck '1-- ;^-J;;
the bull moose, rounded out a generous « f"-;"™
anv narty of sportsmen might be proud; >et all
: L hrle of our four big moose still have the.r hou.e
:n:me moose yard upon a mountain sule .n northen

"'The'thought of this will stimulate renewed endeavo
and llSireVa-^t anticipations for renewed e.lve.

'"Ll yet our pleasure was not limited to hardship

and the slaughter wrought by our hands Our part

1 .le up of such congenial spirits, w.th whom t

f .• .t life are naramount, and who qmckly tui

?rt':^i:£^ our camp-fire burned brightl

IIlNTIN.i H,0 (JaMK IV WiNTKK. 4,;:,

but not los., briKiM a„,l cl ry w.us tl,.. n.|„(io„ of tl„.

«l.iy s observations an.l a.lvcntun.s-tb,. witlv s.,llv
an,l skillfnl .vpart,.,. tbat „,a„y tini.s s.t tb- canmi',,,;,

roars of Uu,„,„„, Xo, ,,, tl„. bi« ■ an,l b..,„'. ,os,

1 . tl„. trivial or eonnMo„|,l„e,.. Tl„. boautv of ,„.„• aP,l
-listant mountain raM«,., ,,„ak tow..rin« " ab.nv p.ak
"'■t.l lost in tb,. .listanc.,., ,1,.. ,,„..„t of foivst ,.,„bn,c-
■ns many millions of aeivs ri«bt bor,. in V.w KnHan.l
... nmrvolous stillness an,l n.s.fuln.ss of tl„. woo,Is'
tlu- magnihcenco of sprue,. an,l (ir, cla,l in tb.ir winter
costume of snow an,l ice-bere in repousse, tbere in
■ntaKln^liere in .lelioate tracery, tbere as if ..own,.,l
m costliest laees, ami .leeke.l witb Koi-eous ,^,.ms tbat
reflected every rainbow tint of passing clou.l on tbe
winters snow; tbe clear, brijfbt an,l braeimj atmos-
phere and tbe wealtb of golden ligbt of tl„. nortbern
aurora borealis wbicb surrounded us at nigbt and ma,le
It seem as if we lived in an enchant..,! worbl of luminous
beauty-all, an,l mucli more, ,.nhance,l our pleasures
and lent an a.l.led charm to our visit to tbe woo.ls in
winter. Nor were the wants of tbe pbysical man i-^-
nored. Our bost bas coinfortabl,. camps for hU
guests, abundantly supplied with all tbat can minister
to their comfort, and be is tireless in promoting tb,.ir
success and pleasure. His commissarv ,l,.partment
and cuisinc deserve special mention, for tbev are so
abundant and vari,.,l as to satisfy tbe most gen,.rous
appetite an,l critical tast,.. A goo,l i,lea of them mav
he formed by the spread wbicb be provided for our
rbanksgivang dinner, the menu of which is given bero-
^ntb in the accompanying cut.

It was emblazoned upon birch bark by tbe Artist
of tbe party and accorded a prominent place in

4c,(', Gatiikuki) WAiri.vns.

the center of tlie table, but it was not of sufficient
length to inclu.le a list of the liquid accessories,
which, doubtless, woul.l have made Neul Dow hlu>.h
had he been a guest at the Machi«s Lake Camps.—
Worcester Daily Spy, December ■2-2, 18'Ju.

VACATION PLEASANTKIES.

\i, •'>■ >

^l i

WE srient our vacation in the wilds of Maine.
The Di'ad Kiver was assailed by our pad-
dles, an<l the surrounding country received
the impression of our footsteps, which pointed to the
famed Seven Pon.ls region and over the Boundary
Mountains to Spi.ler Lake in Cana.la-the territory
inclu<led in the famed Megantio preserve.

Breaking away from civilization, we -vere free,
from the conventionalities of city life, and we rejoiced
in the quietness and restfulness of the scene. ^\ e were
charmed by the blue skies, delightful atmosphere ■
clear, rarefied, and health-giving; an.l the water, cold
and sparkling, as it bursts forth in living springs,
tasted as water never tasted before; the ofty moun-
tain trees bowed as if in welcome. This latter is not
original but Homeric, and while it has come down the
centuries from the darksome, distant past, it is better
than mo.lerns produce; and as it fits our case exactly,
I hope I may be pardoned for using it hen Timid
deer were ciaily companions and the gamey trout
responded to our tempting flies. Cabins, clean and com-
modious, tables abundantly supplied, and the cheer

Vacation Pi.kasantkiks. 4,;:

ami ban hommie of congenial companions left notl.inir
o be .lesired in making our munnu.r'8 outing a tin.,, to
be (>.nbalnH..l in un.lying memory. But a surfeit of
good tilings soon repels, ami the .lolights of one ,lnv
are pa.s.e the next, ami so new worlds are looked fo"r
to explore and enjoy.

Our friends, one of whom is a disp,.nsor of the -hul
tuhngs of the Divine Law, and the other of tlie mixed
quahty of the human, were not on slaughter bent, an.l
so desired variety to please rather than nuantity or
mere wantonness. •*

This coming to the knowledge of our guide, who i«
past master in guiding and resources to pleas,, pro-
pose,! to the writ,.r that we join i„ „„ ..ffort to .nter-
tain our frien,ls one night, while at Crosby Pon.l, with
an evening's fishing for "whitefish" or "vanlfish "
Ihis met with ready approval on their part,"aii,l tli,.v
entering with zest any propose.l new a,lv,.nt,ue l,,'.-'
came very nwjuisitive to l,.arn all about tli,. sport.

By previous arrangement between mvself and .. .i,|,.
they had been entertained by stories of the rare fun in'
store for them, and th,.ir interest an,l enthusiasm were
stimulated by the fascinations of the treat vet to eon,,.
In answer to in,)uiries they wer.. told that, unlike trout
they would not rise to the fly, that tlu'v ,li,l not liav,.
scales hke other fish, that th,.y were called "whitefish"
because their belUes were white, and "yanlfish" b,.-
cause they were sometimes measured by the vard,
that they were caught only at night by the light" of a
big bonfire, that when caught on a light fly-ro,l thev
afforded tons of sport, etc.

Well, the evening arrived and the fireplace was
made ready near the edge of the water, on the front

(iATllKKKl) WaIVI.KTH.

1, of a rocky Muff vi.i"« «!..■.•.• ""t <•'' "'" 1«'>"> -"""

';'7'-':;';;;r-t:;i::;;::i:;:"

tlunics soon liKl't*'*' "1' ; , ,(,1,1 to let

'"itXuo- rv..Kot a Intel" telhthoBtory that

""litWt- I'vo sot hoW of the bottom of tl.
"(,.H.at Scott. 1 ;,.„,! ()U,mynmtaou'l

111 111, there' — I've lost mm!
ho imll! t)U— tlurt i peculiar am

.Uon came another outburst ^

"There he goes again! hec mm i,o,
yimminy, he pulls as hard as a pony ^^ ^^^^^^^^^^

,5r;r:^^«:-^^t:teatheannonncemer
S:V::;\he contest, ana woras^ —---
— a::ri::Sr^-e-eehoeathebo^

*"n"'nrNTo of Uncle Izaak, the gentle teacher
,orras!;e-/nervous and impatient at his CO

\"a<-ati..n IVkasantrik-. ^,.,,

panion'« ,uec..s. ,„,i l„.e«us,. tl„. "wl,it,.|UI," r

^ p;;j^-,::r-:,::-:::r;;:;-:

itH iin,i,„tio ..s, u„;,,i ;,;:'"'■"■'■;: "•■" "" • '■-

~:?r;,=T;;,«r::r:,'irt;::!

i;;:::i:*;;:!;ri: ""»• ■'--■"'

i-,;-';„-- "-."n..:*;;;:;:,':;,r;r

.S,Si,r,~;;;r;;r;::;;:;; '--..

./f—tS;,;'.';''"!*:, :'■■'■';■'' "" ""•« ■

M0N( .TONY 1 HAT 18 NOT MONOTONOUS.

T„E „„n,,,.n..l on,., in tU.. citu.« .....! tl,.. frivolous
o,„.H of tl.r. fusliionaWf r.'Hort

u. .. of tU.. viUl-rn.... an.l in tho t..n,lern..ss of t r
'"i;"n. an unpromising task to undertake the worl

:Si r«:liofbiras,.Uoaa.„iretJ.n.^
: Jn monarchs of the forests, and the.r t.m.d Mk

?^r and feather, and who go to sleep on beds of mcea
tur and ^j^ jjj^gjg ^f t

breathing spruce and tir, luiiea uy

l! f

Movorovv THAT ,s v„.r Arn.vor„v.„.s. 4-,

=r::;;;!::-:-:-^^^^

•."''ir : :;;::;r,r'7'r-"''' ''"-"■^'"

-■■-■r;;:;\;\i:;;::;;:n::;;:;::' ;;;:•:-" ■•,

;;'-':■" ":-"^- "■ -^ii:::! ;:::::;::;

cml-nc of tl„. .IrowMv 1„„„ of ,|„. ,„ .,•',' "' '
■"-'otononsly „po„ ,1,.. ,,,,, „,. , ' ' . ,' "*""'*.■";'

;;^;"^ini...,i.,,,.„i,,,,,.,,,,..;\^;;-.,-;-j

onv of a «„„„,„„„„ with ,„.■ sri„ „f Monn.s w| .

"=-s;:;:-,=;:tLS;;;=;r--

tops ,lu. splaslnnK of watw, „,„| ,|„. ,„„,„,,, „f
i" tow<.n„K .Mountains in tho .listanc con,,. L 111

to tl„. woary m,n,l, wl„.„ H.H.tly interpret,.,! ,

|.~of,l,..i,,,ttoalUvlK,wor,l,ilvco J",
::;;r '.'"'"/" "f~ Tl-.M,iv,.,,in«n;on,.tonv:.

M.mMK'. flash, a„,l th,. p.al on p,.„l of orashins th -

W that snnfs tho oarth with its fn^htfnl vohn,;

r verb,.rat.on upon reverberation, has that in it whiel,
the word n,onotony does not limit nor define. The ter
r-fjang monotony of the breath of the tornado that fans

472 Gathered Waiklets.

Trlls dartins Psh'^« and babbling brooks AU tbes<
tbey appeal to ^J^J ^^^j^^ ,,„„,,do„,, of the ^^-ildei

Sportsman, 1896.

OUK SUMMER'S OUTING.

THE dog-Btar ushered in ^''If n*™"/"'^^'
genial spirits took counsel how best to ev
his torrid embrace. Scant deUberation .
.as nece'rary to decide upon a trip to the Meg.

nreserve in northwestern Maine.

" ' iTote for the route via Eustis," said one, bee

'because

Our Scmmer's Oi-Tr.vo. 4;.,

If • V ri.le in tho evpning from th,. Dca.l River

While chansiiiff horses." ^"I'lm

"Well, I vote for a ride over a smooth roa<I anv
Pieasant eveni,,., in summer, an,] I an, sure a .00,
^pper sarnhviel.., in wouM make it „oublv atU .!

trip to the Dead River an,l Seven Ponds region

to deter giving his reasons therefor until ater A
major, y having already signifie,, their preferoiL; ut
rema,„ing two members of the partv ^raeefX n
dorsed the choice of the others, and «.: pro," J Ja,"
made a reality August 4th, when a jolly pa'rtv ^v"

E.,st,s, soon after nine o'clock in the evening
The sun rose grandly over the su.nmit of Mount

aden buckboards took their departure by that heaveni;
tote road located along the Dead river for the camps o"f
the Club at the Chain of Ponds. While in transit
along tins matchless tl,oroughfare the third meniber
of the party to give his preference for this route be-^an
in a monotone an<l with grave deliberation :
"About, above, across, after, against, alon--"
"And what now?" interrupted one, his look of aston-
ishment adding force to the infjuiry.

"Amid or amidst, among or amongst, around, at,
athwart, before, behind, below, beneath, beside or
besides, between, betwixt, beyond",—

474

Gathered Waiflets.

1 !

"I say there, "-"Hold on there, "-"What are you
giving us now? "-shouted three at one time.

"Oh, I am so delighted to think we came this wayl
That list of prepositions was the terror of my school-
boy days; and for the life of me I have not been able
to repeat them since my last trip over this road. Just
listen and see how naturally they come-overyone sug-
gested by the heaving and pitching of the buokboard-
by, concerning, down, during, except, excepting,^ for^
from, in, into (there, by gracious 1) of, on, over,
under (didn't I tell you so!) underneath, until, into,
up, upon, with, within, without,— "

"Hold holdl"—" Throw him overboard! — J^ut a
wet handkerchief on his headl"-and with oat calls
and groans the scholar was squelched.

But even tote roads, rivalling the billows of an angry
ocean in roughness, have an end, though their miles
of generous length may be shortened, as in this case,
by the give and take of genial comradeship. The
Megantic lares et penates at the Chain of Ponds soon
broke pleasantly upon our vision, and not long after
five hungry mortals were doing full justice to its ample

"ds were soon assembled, the waters assailed and
as a result toothsome trout graced the table at the
evening meal. A good night's rest, followed by a
savorj wood's breakfast, and the Indian Stream trail
was taken over Snow mountain for our camp at Bis
Island Pond, which was reached soon after mid-day
Ete ytWng U been put to rights about The Wigwan
to receive us, and it never before presented a mor,
attractive appearance. An inviting looking packag
:;ood upon'he table in the centre of the room, an,

OfR SumMKr's Ol'TING. ^-r

emblazoned upon the wrapper was this legend- '"Wiih
tile comphments of The Buncalow •' !.

Oh! black fly lotion... ,,o„t,,,„„,,,^^
^J^ustso.buta.n.titn.ightyki„dofthe,nr.shouted

The "loti n'. p o"";:^ r:r ;•" "" "'■■''"'■

record the sentiment of Z "' '"^' '"^''^ ''"

-n:-..„ere.s tTThf iStr ™"^ '^ '"^ ^"-

-^.weres:-:s:':;;-rd-r

stay, but I believe a greater number were at Bii. t1

every convenience'lS'^ac t" mrC""l
enjoyment of members and their gL an^M ""
thoughtful acts of kindness andC:;:i ' Zi:'
to them by the steward and his wife We were fn!

«i.htf„i weather, the air b.n;:;::::;'cSr;

The trout did not rise well to the flv at Ri<, T,i i
pond but in L, Grant, and Big Nor^l^t ^'e ^ Cd
excellent fly fishing. Some of our party caugh and
locked salmon i„ Big Islan.l pond, with whicT it "a ,'
been recently stocked, the largest of which measu
eighteen inches. They were all returned to the wate

476

Gatiikred Waiflets.

liH,

1 I

llH^

Deer were «een in -f erable ^,n.ber. but not a.

eall upon -"-/;' f ,,, f^i„„tes; aiu. now The
in one hour and Mt\-tuui u „ \fr H S.

WiKwam clauns championship lK.nor.. Mr. H. h
\\^^«^ Y^^j^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ record, and the

Tf The WiKwam will gladly make a match

owners of ^J^ J^R^^ " j i^.t, ^amps at Big

between any owner or owulih u i ^^

Island to heat this record or t^^f^;'^^ .j,,,„d
between owners, and wd name Mr^S—- o ^^^

their title to the "^'^^P'^^^^P-^^td to the Clubhouse
our vacation ended he was ^-^-^fj^^^^,,^, f,om
on Spider Lake in Canada to meet some ir

Kew York, and ^^^y^^^^/^XX^^: Zm of
fir":"-ar::^-":rsenttments.^

a scroll of birch bark as follows :—

inter sylvestras feras nnae m ^ i„

Imperii eamdam syeramus.

Our Summer's OrTi.vo. 47;

A PARTING WORD.

I wish ye well, ye Sachems hold.

Who made me place beside your fire,

And nave ivhat uisemen must desire

And deem more worth than Klondike's gold-

liririht eyes, ch^- head, and heart at rest

With love of friends, the truest, best,

Because they are the manliest.

I wish ye years and trips a score;

Hay The Wigwam's witchery always grow

And keep hearts green though heads have snow

And memories' joy be mor- and more.

May the pains of life that will come each year

Be forgot when The Wigwam holds you here.

And the wood's 1 reath leave on your cheek no tear.

These sentiments and kind wishes were lettered upon
an elegant sheet of white birch l)ark, handsomely
framed in a rustic frame, and accorded a prominent
place on the wall to awaken old-time remembrances and
to give added cheer and pleasure to future visits to
The Wigwam in the wilderness.-J/aiwe Sportsman
September, 1897.

EYES THAT SEE AND EABS THAT HEAR.

THE g\ves of winter are still upon tlic lake anil
the "noisy stream is silenced under his cruel
restraint; the distant mountain peak glitters
in the sun and the trail lies hidden by its mantle of

snow. . ...

The varied pursuits of life impose thoir galling
chains upon the lovers of the beautiful in nature, and,
while thev are denied the pleasures of a sojourn in
their accustomed haunts, they may indulge a malicious
.leli-ht when they consider that even nature itself has
to pay tribute to inexorable law of restraint and veil
her manifold attractions.

But the forces of spring are gathering and the cro«-n
of flame upon the maples and the gossamer bannerets
upon the willows betoken the multitude of the oncoming
host whose successful smiting will drive winter from
his throne, liberate the lake, and make the nvers sing
a iovful refrain of -victory.

Our man of business may well pray for the interven-
tion of some kindly goddess to break the chain that
binds him to the cares of life and afford him an oppor-
tunity to join in the tuneful melody-and to enable him
trspend his vacation days where is found the flood tide
of pleasure as it is found nowhere else-in the free-
dom, contemplative, restful silence and abstemious

life of the woods. , . ,

For him who has for years pitched his camp and

Eves that See and Eaus that Hkar 47,,
built his carapfirc on the shore of some l.eantif,.! Inke
in the depths of the forest far from the abo.le of ,na„
we do not write. No assen.bh,Ke of words, however
wel chosen, no sentences however sn.ooth and heauli-
ful the .hction or fascinating the cliarm, are needed to
onsage h.s interest or stinndate his enthnsiasm.

AVe fa.n wonld write a line to encourage those who

ave never yet con,,, within the kin.lly influencs o^

the woods nor experiencl some of their n.any charms,

«l.eh abonnd npon every hand and are as different

and vaned as tlie incHnations an.l tastes of visitors

The contemplative and sentimental see the towering
mountains joining the horizon by .Graceful, un.lulating
outhnes; tlie virgin forest majestic in its silence, the
melody of the mountain brook an,I the repose of the
Placd lake; the curling smoke from the pri.nitive camp-
tire and the savory odors emanating therefrom: the
tunefnl note of feathered songsters an.l the weird note
of he elusive loon; tlie scudding, fleecy cloud and the
arching dome of heaven over all-all are the accordant
notes awakened upon the lyre of nature bv the hands of
Omnipotence whose cliords .jnicken the heart and lift
the listener above the meaner things of life.

Bays of golden sunshine shoot through the sombre
treetops and dance fantastic dances beneath our foot-
steps, weaving and unweaving, with the lights and
shades as warp and woof, a gilded tapestrv, which
gives added welcome to the visitor while rendering
more beautfiul the mosses and lichens, and anon
gilding the trembling leaf and gnarled trunk with its
most brilliant but transient rays.

Thankful should he be wlio is permitted to enter the
holy place and come within such influences-leaving

M i

^y,, GathbRed Waiklets

... ,o,»» or-^ f'l r.rr— -'■""•

think thoughts and experience sensations that hft

FROM LITTLE MUCH.
So Near and Yet So Fab.

MOST of the ,.xi....u.,.cofi written out by sports-
men for publication are limited to the success
Achieved with rod and s"" ""'1 «"> P''-'^^"'^'^^

't:'ntr iHssert that many who have pitched
their camp near the summit of ^"^ t"^-.""^^ T"";
tain peak, or built their campfire m the -Jt"f ^^h^^
^Hlderness. or cast the seductive fly on ruffled lake, or

From Little Much 4gi

sent the ruthless messengers of death after fleetinjf
fur and feathered game, have cherished memories of
peculiar and unlooked-for experiences, possibly disap-
pointments, hair-breadth escapes, and a thousand and
one adventures and incidents which seldom get beyond
the circle of most intinuite friends, but which, never-
theless, are prized memories above and beyond their
greatest success in mere killing.

At the time many of these appear trivial and of so
httle consequence as to make no particular in.pre.ssion
upon the min.l, but after we return *o the tread-mill of
every day life to grind the same old Mrist over and over
again, they assume a new hue in the warp and woof
of our outing and add color nn,l variety to the beauti-
lul mosaic.

Just now, when Boreas blows his cruel blast, when
hoi y and mistletoe adorn the homes of our land, when
tables groan under the load of the mnnv good things
prepared for the Yuleti.le season, mv thoughts go back
a twelvemonth to a Midwinter adventure and a dinner
in the wilderness of Northern Maine when the ther-
mometer registered several degrees below zero.

Reed's Big Machias Lake Camps, at which we made
headquarters, are located about a mile from the
Machias river about three miles from where it leaves
Its birthplace. Big Machias lake. Here genial compan-
ionship, success, good cheer and the comfort and cui-
sine of our camp made the days and weeks fly alto-
gether too swiftly away for our party of four.

Several pages, generous though they be, would not
be adequate to record in outline the haps, mishaps
successes and adventures of the trip, so I will but at-

483

i I
i I

Gathkrku Waiklbth.
"It to doBoribo briefly th<. incidont. in tl.o loast inv

,vood. ^^lan alter u b ^^_^^_^ ,^^_^^^ j^^ „j,

thp monarch oi the loithi i" '"= _„„,i,, fnr

tho trail as soon as it is ligm f uo b

"T.':';:i"hu *.ri., »- «- -'',« • ¥:::

Kkom Littlk .Mich 4g;(

UKfavorublc coiulitiun of tl.c woatlu-r to r..nmi., i„

Tliose only «l,o Imvo boon compcll,.,! to n.iuuin in
camp can upprociato the nionofony of killing tini..
tlR.re.n; an.l doubly irkncn,. is .t «iu.n you tliink «l,at
valued trophies may n.ward the eff. ts of your less
eJleminate com|)aiiions.

The niorning Kra.lually wore „way. the cold grew
more u.tense, an.l the Makes of snow ^rew sn.alle, ard
more ndrequent, until the sickly rays of the sun
revealed none in the frosty air.

''Com,.,- sai.l my frieml Farley, "let us Ret readv
«nd take a turn out, I can't stand this inactivitv any
lonjfer." • ■'

''It is a unanimous vote," I replie.l, and soon our
feet were warmly dr..sse,l in two pairs of verv h,.avv
woolen stockings and i,,l,l,.,,. overshoes, such as'lumhe;-
'•'«■» wear. For bodil> clothinR we put on but little
>»ore If any, than would he won, by men out Kuimin-
anywhere m the Xorthen States in early autumn. "

Carrying nmmnnition and a heavy rifle, together
with hatcli..t, blanket, foo.l, teapot and other neces-
saries, with feet heavily lade,, an.l wallowing in deep
snow, the bloo<l is soon sent coursing through the bo.lv
bestowing abundant war.nti, without the adjunct of
heavy clothing.

We starte<l out an<I noticed tlie faint tracks ma,l..
by the others— now nearly blotted out by the drifting
snow— and took an opposite direction along the ok'
tote road leading to Big Machias lake and bevond'
The snow was very deep and our progress very slow '
AVe had traveled but a few hundred yards from
camp, and lo! and behold! there before our verv eyes

'( \

4„4 (Jatiikkki» \Vaiki,kt«.

f„.sh caribou track. '.-and three of them!-« Kreat

J '««nu..nts of Wiut..r nn.l uU appeare. a.

;„„ ul p'rami.lH in their apparel of purest wh.te,
ul , heVe an.l there hy the -lark ^ree,. of some
i fr..,,. .vhieh ha.i clipped it, overburden o snow^

(h.i.tlv, patiently, stealthily, we slowly follow the
„„arrv, peering inte,>tly at every object and momen-
Tilv" xpectiuK to con.e in sight of our intended v.c
Z ;n.l li a sl>ot. Here they lingered to eat the moss
frm., an overturne.1 spruce-there tl>ey separated as
did their pursuers, only to be re-united again at a
little distance-here getting .lown on hands and knees
to creep under dependent bouglis borne down by their
load'^ of snow, and sometimes misjudging distance by
a hair's breadth, rising up only to dislodge it upon our
necks to melt and run down our backs.

We were keenly alert ar.d puslied forward with all
the haste consistent with extreme caution in pursuing
the verv irregular course that the .piarry led us, and
it seeined as if we must liave been several liours in

pursuit.

Looking at my watch I found it was 1. .s than an aour
and an intense fatigue seemed to overpower me. Pu 1-
ine mvself together, I examined the fo..tprints closely
and they seemed freslier than ever. I took new cour-
age and pushed forward with renewed vigor, expecting
to get a shot every moment.

Fiioji LiTTi.1! Mrcii 4(,r,

So intent were we in pursuit that we paid no heeU
to the general din-ction that we haj traveled and .oon
we were Burpri.ed to find that all three of the caribou
had come to the edge of the clearing within fifty yard,
of our ca.„p where they ha.l reraaine.1 «ome time and
trod the .now »olid while inveHtigating their gurround-
ingg.

y« "niled an audible smile at the curiosity mani-
fested by them, and at o.ice we procee.led t.. open u
lodge of conference, wherein we .lebate.l in p.mK.mine
whether Mr. He..d had seen them, an.l if so Uiether or
not he had exten.le.l the courteHy of the camp to them
an.l invited them in to breakfast, and if we had better
continue in pursuit or give it up a.i.l return to camp.

"No surrender" was the motto that we signaled to
each other, and we turned about and resumed the quest
But, alas! we had so strained -jur eves peering so
long at the brilliant snow that it was soine time Ivfore
we recovered our sight sufficiently to follow the tr >1|
They wandered off in a tortuous course along a sn.ali
brook that runs diag..nally from the cam,, io the river
and along this we cautiouslv mi.d.. our wav

When about half way to th.. river, thev" crossed the
brook where it is Ihink.Ml on eitl,..r side bv a d..„se
growth of swamp cedars.

Here, in creising the brook as best we could, we cot
in over our rubber overshoes „„d emerge.l wit), our
feet an.l l,.gs wet nearly to (,ur kncvs. \Vl,i|,. it ,...,s
intensely cold, the brook was prebablv fed bv springs
and the dense woods growth and <leep covering of .n.^.-
kept it from freezing.

Onward ac pushed, the .signs show! ,g fresher and
fresher, and yet we got no shot, nor even a glimpse of
the wandering, erratic animals.

486 Gathered Waielets.

We had become thoroughly warmed up by our
anxiety and exertion and were sweating freely. Ex-
pectation lightened our footsteps and hope spurred us
on The pale rays of the little sun that broke oceasion-
„„y through the tree tops showed that it -^^^f^
past meridian, and again looking at my ^^atch I saw
it was after one o'clock.

Conununicating this to my compamon a whispe.ed
consultation was hold, joined to pantomime, when it
was <lecidod to make some tea and eat our lunch.

Looking about we saw at a little distance a large
overturned yellow birch tree which promised to be a
.rood place to cat our noonday meal.
Ve gathered an armful of white birch bark and
placing it between two limbs near a crotch in he tree
soon had a good fire going and the teapot half full o
boilin- tea. Mr. Reed, being an ample provider, and
l,avin; "iven us more tea than we could use, we put
ibont one-half in the teapot and returned the balance

'";;^g:;tred about the little fire to eat our lunch
and dlk the hot tea, but my breath had so frozen
that my mustache an.l whiskers were a solid mass of ice
and I could not open my mouth wide enough to eat or
drink. Stooping over the smouldering -™"ants of
onr fire it was several minutes before my mouth «as
sufficiently thawed out to proceed with our meal.

We had set the teapot on the trunk of the tree a little
way from the fire, which was replenished from time
to time with birch bark, and now when about to partake
of our meagre repast a twig that had been home down
by the snow and frozen to the trunk was liberated by

From Little Mrou 4^7

the fire and suddenly switohing around it knocked the
teapot over and spillwl the tea.

As we had to maintain a very considerable silence
we dK not g,ve audible expression to our thoughts,
but f the expression of our countenances and vehemen
pantomime were adequately described in words I am
free to confess I think they would look better in some
dead language than in unvarnished Anglo-Saxon.

T>et feet and our bodies wet with persj.iration, and the

our backs we soon became chilled through and through
but^son. hot tea we must have and so another fire le'

This after some effort to secure an additional supplv
of birch bark, we had blazing up again, a new supply of
snow melted, and the aroma of the tea again perfumed
the clear air for .some di.stance around. We hastilv
partook of our dinner which did not require the con-
ventional hour for its disposal, but choicer viands and
more lengthened time never imparted greater zest

Refreshed and re-invigorated we increased our pace
and soon came to where two of the trio had lain down
for their mid-day siesta. We felt that we must be
very near to them, and the trees being larger and of
more open growth permitted our more liastv advance

The sun had sunk below the tree to|,s and th.. after-
noon was well spent when the trail led us tc and across
the Allegash tote road several miles from our camp
toward Ashland in the direction taken bv our frien.ls
and their guides in the morning. havinsr'substantialK-
ma.le a large, irregular half circle aroun.l our eam[.

^88 Gathered Waiflets.

Hastily oroBsing the road we found to our dismay
crestfallen, disappointed and weary we ga

1 ,11 Soon after our return to camp his massive head
1896.

WOODS PICTURES.
TAKII.G Photographs in the Forest.

S TIGHTLY paraphrasing an old saying, which
has now the force of an aphorism, we may
sav that one-half of those who enjoy an
annual o^Un^ do not Unow what ^^l^^'^:
„or wherein lies the>r pleasu Spor-

little or -thiugi-Y-'""-;;;!;, "r^osort, and
t,e din and dissipa ion o^^ -/,^^; \„, „,,,y.

,0 - T s Xs^^T re til and recreation far

CX— "dtsipaiionofment^^^^

mountain solitude and virgin fores -, of ripphug stream

Ll placid lake; of the ."-^» ^-^ .^Tol
tain range and towering peak; of the mm. b

Woods Pictures

489

of grosbeak and the sustained melody of the Canada
thrush; of the timid deer and gamey trout; of the
waving pines and the balsamic odors of spruce and fir
—all commingling and blending to attract and please

"Ilim who in the love of uature holds
Communion with her visible forms."

They are all harmonized notes in the unending Te
Deum to the God of nature, and all who come within
their influence will find the heart quickened, the mind
eleva d, the body invigorated.

Any one of the above subjects would make a sufficient
text for an extended article, and altogether they would
fill a generous volume without amplification. We will,
therefore, limit this article to a single episode in our
recent outing, and this we do for a twofold purpose,
viz.: to show one of the very pleasant and unusual
occurrences which may come to them who journey
far from the habitations of men, and also, in so far
as it may, to prove that the poi)ular notion that all
who go into the wilds find their only pleasure in w i..ton
slaughter.

On August 8th of the present year our party, made
up of congenial companions, arrived at Maccaimamac
Lodge on Spider lake, in the province of Quebec,
belonging to the Megantio Club, having left the settle-
ments in Maine a week previous by journeying up the
Dead river to the Chain of Ponds and over Snow moun-
tain to the famed Seven ponds, and thence out by
Massachusetts Bog, Arnold Pond and Crosby Pond,
where we took the trail across the Boundary mountains
to the headquarters of the club.

490 Gathebeu Waiflets.

Already the membership limit of three hundred is
reached, knd most of the members -nake a tour of the
preserves every year, and we met a large number at
the clubhouse, as well as in the different camps and
upon the various trails. And yet no one now Imng
recalls the time when deer were so plentiful or tame
as they are this year. It was a daily sight to see them
feeding, playing with each other along the shores of
the lakes, and so tame that many """y' J«^« "^"
enough to see them wink their eyes. Few days there
were the past Summer that deer did not come into
the yard about the clubhouse, especially in the after-
noon, twilight and evening; and so little were they dis-
turbed by the presence of man, or the wanton destruc-
tion so much talked and written about, that they wou kl
tarry about in the clearing as ^^-oncern.>\ n. do^e.U^
cated animals-even within twenty-five feet of the
p zza when occupied by many people. Their inqmsi-
tive gaze, graceful outlines and fearlessness were a
source of pLsure for all, and were much more higWy
enjoyed than would be the same forms rendered inam-
mate by the ruthless rifle bullet.

Do not the presence of deer so tame and in such
numbers negative the overdrawn and I'-g^J-colored
claim of wanton slaughter! B. not --\f-;s ^peak
volumes in proof of a higher sportsmanship that find
,„ore pleasure in conservation than in des ruction?
And in no uncertain tones does it not tell us of the aw-
abiding and law-enforcing character of the members
of the Megantin Club?

But to return to the episode of the trip which occa-
sioned this article.

Woods PicTfREs 491

On the afternoon of August 10th a young man from
Boston and the writer went up the trail leading from
the clubhouse through the preserve with our cameras
to get some woods views, and when we had proceeded
but a httle way, in going around a bend, we encoun-
tered a beautiful doe not more than thirty yards away
My friend having plates much quicker than my
films, I whispered to him to take a snap, although the
8un was wrong for us, the ,ioe being to the westward.
This he did several times, the subject being not in the
least disconcerted. She cautiously venture.l toward
us, browsing on the shrubbery along the trail and sev-
eral times knocked flies from her ears with her hind
feet. We did not fail to notice her graceful outlines
and most beautiful posing, and yet we despaired of get-
ting a good picture, ow=ng to her moving about anil our
bad light.

At length I suggested to my frien.l to set up his
tripod an<l I would try a time e.v:posure with mv larger
camera. This he procee.le.l to do, and as he imfol.le.l
Its legs her bump of curiosity asserte.l itself, and she
cautiously approached us within ten f,.et, starin- all
the while at the new three-legged thing that she had
never seen before. She was then at a point where we
wanted her, but the declining sun shot sharp ravs
through the tree tops directly on llu. Iens,an<l rendere<l
dubious our chances for s.,.c,cess. .Just then slie thought
she would take a rear view of her visitors and their
new-fangled contrivances, and so she walk.'d around
and by us and came out again into the trail not more
than ten or twelve feet away. What with the torment-
ing flies and her efforts to rid herself of these nests
smpping off the foliage a,... eating «-ith avidity" and

492 Gathebed Waifi-bts.

peering at ub from a dozen different attitudes we had
much to admire and enjoy, but we could not catch
her quiet long enough to make the desired exposure
Several of our efforts resulted indifferently well but
that shown in the accompanying cut is perhaps the best

°\v e probably spent in all a full half hour wi*h Mrs.
Doe, and when we left the scene of operations .he was
quietly eating her supper within twency feet of the

*"such experience seldom comes to him who goes into
the woods, and it is something remarkable to occur ,n
a section of country settled so many years ago and so
ll V populated as is New England. When we
lated our experience to our friends at the clubhouse
on our return, we received heartiest congratulat.on on
opening a st^lio in the woods and 1™ /^^f (^-^
for patrons.-r;,c Amatenr Sportsman, October, 1895.

A DAY WITH MUSKALONGE IN CANADA.

MORNING came. Dog days had not run their
course. The sun cast up red like a ball of
Are Not a breath of air stirred to temper
the torrid heat. Swallows flitted hizily about, and the
bilant song of locusts fell drowsily on the ear Jiny
fleecy clouds on the Lori.on gave promise ot sho«ers

nu°S:g' thtU hours of the ^o™/p-Sfr
to the home of old Brissette on the bank of Pike nver

A Day With Muskaionob in Canada 4<».»
(which flows into that portion of Lake Champlain
known as Missiquoi bay) near the village of Bedford
Quebec. I was provided with a hamper of solids and
liquids for the inner man, and a sufficient supply of
paraphernalia to start a fisliing-tackle store. Brissette
was awaiting me.

'•Bon jour, ban jour, man cher ami; we mek start
rat off for quick. "

Dipping his fingers into the benitier, which always
has a conspicuous place in the home of the habitant
Bnssette devoutly made the sign of the cross; an.l
with a wish from his wife for our success and safe
return, we took our departure for the flat water of the
river, some distance below his house.

On our way to the landing, near the deep pool where
the rapids end, we passed through nooks and vistas in
glade and mead that gladdened the eye; wliere nature
in her seeming indifference and frowsy neglect
furnishes many artistic sights. The timid brown thrush
IS startled by our intrusion and flits into the denser
growth beyond, and the bobolink sings liis joyous
rollicking notes in the meadow. All this seems lost on'
the matter-of-fact Brissette, the patient basket maker
and successful angler; perhaps because it is a part of
his everyday life.

At the landing the trolling rod of split bamboo is
assembled, the nniltiplying reel is well secured in its
place, the threadlike, silk waterproof enameled line is
extended through the guides, and a latest pattern of
trolling spoon is attached. Brissette scrutinized cverv-
thing closely without saying a word, but it required
only an indifferent mind-reader to see that he was not
favorably impressed. As we took our places in the
boat he said : —

494

Gathkrku Waiflkts.

" Vcr' nice, dat tings, ver' nice. He don't fool 'longe,
plobly, don't he, heiuf"

Feeling entirely confident of giving him a surprise,
I was content to make answer,

"Well, we'll see, Brissette, we'll see."
The oars were in the hands of a master. The boat
moved as smoothly as a swun on the surface of the
water. The speed was neither too fast nor too slow.
fc,->venty-five yards of line were slowly paid out. Every
nerve was tense, and anxiety waited on expectation.
Slowly a mile was covered, but no pirate of the
waters seized the tempting lure. My faith in the
burnished gold and silver spoon weakened after going
a few miles, and I asked Brissette to desist from
rowing until I mounted a phantom minnow.

"Looks lak he no wants de jewelry mek on de State,
hein?"

"Well, Brissette, your 'longe may not be so nighly
educated as ours, but all the same I think I shall tempt
one yet."

"Plobly," answered Brissette, with deep skepticism
depicted upon every lineament of his countenance.

I raised and lowered the tip of the rod, describing
the tangents of a circle, but all to no purpose. We
covered five miles without a rise or a sign. I discarded
my phantom minnow for a St. Lawrence gang, and we
covered more miles without encouragement or reward.
At the turning point we neared a few spreading elms
and I suggested to Brissette that we go ashore to eat

our lunch.

C'aubing the precipitous bank of the river we saw
murky clouds rolling toward the zenith from the
Western horizon. They were frequently intersected

A Dat With Mi'skaloxor in Canada 495

and illuminated by zigzag chains of lightning. It was
evident that a heavy shower was not far off, and we
deemed it wise to seek the shelter of an outlying barn
some distance away. We had just begun to dispose of
our refreshments, seated on mounds of sweet scented,
newly gatliered hay, wlieii great rain drops beat a
restful tattoo on the roof. The wind grew in volume
and intensity and soon we were in the midst of a blind-
ing summer shower, punctuute<l by the flash and rour of
the artillery of the clouds. The face of nature was
thoroughly washed, and after the passing of the
shower, vegetation appeared an intenscr green.

Luncheon was leisurely disposed of, together with
something of a liciuid nature, which ha<l a happy effect,
when Brissette broke in with,

"Bah gosh! ah'U tole liol' hwomans we go get big
'longe; for big tam. We'll fin' big tarn for sure!"
"Yes, but we haven't got our big 'loi.ge yet."
"Certainement! Ccrtaincmctit! Des 'longe h no
lak for to heat de jewelry tings. He lak it de chub
bettaire.

"Well, Brissette, I don't know but you are more
than half right. If you will rig up a chub for me your
way, we'll try our luck with him.

"Non, non, mon cher ami! Brissette mak' it de boat
go long sof and easy lak. He no feesh. }!oiis ne
pas for mak dat wheel machine go on dat Ic'tly feedle
steeck. ' '

"Oh! You may row the boat just the same and I
will use f- ^ rod and reel. I only want you to get the
chub and put him on the hook for me your way. ' '

"I no lak it dat way, me. I go on de store for
melasses and de doote-ir he come and he say, 'Brissette,

i i

J: !

4U6 Uatiikkkd Waiklkth.

I go for 'longe las' week. I don't get one. For how
you feex it de bait on de hook for oateh himt" De
minstaire he say, 'Brissette, for how you coax de
'longe f I feesh, one, two, three tarn, and don't lee
•longe at all.' De Heenglishmans in village he ver'
smart; he know every tings. He say, 'Brissette, we
go feesh wid you some tarn, some day, noder day.'
Brissette no keep it de school; Brissette he no go!"

"Very well, Brissette, I will adopt your method.
You rig up a bait your way, and on our way back I
will do just as you direct."

"Bain look mos' gon' by. I go on de brook for ten-
fifteen minutes; den you come on de boat."

The time had passed, the rain had ceased, the air
was refreshed and agreeably tempered. Meeting at the
boat by appointment, Brissette exhibited a chub at
least ten inches long, which he had caught in the brook,
and which he said was to be my bait.

"Great Scott! Brissette, you don't mean it! Why
that fish is almost large enough to carry home to stuff
and bake. It will frighten any 'longe out of his wits !

"You for do my way, hein! Well, Brissette acquaint
wid dese 'longe and he know what he lak' pour manger

for him supper." „ • .1

While engaged in this conversation, Bnssette was
mounting the chub. He peelo.l and sharpened a small
sapling with which he made a perforation from the
head aloi - the backbone to the roar of the dorsal fin.
Through this he passed a copper wire which he made
thoroughly secure to a hook large enough and strong
enough to hold a shark. He then withdrew the copper
.ire until the shank of the hook was d-wn in b
opening made bv the sapling, and so concealed in the

A Day AV.th MrsKA.,..N«K iv Ianai.a 497

hrough the bo.Iy midway botwoon tho .lorsal fin «,„|
the ta.l tt„d «ave it a twi,st. or bon.l. which would cause
he chub to r..volv.. when drawn throu,.]. th,. water

l.ps, effectually clo«i„^ the .uouth so the bait would
move through the water easily and without injury „1
finally he connected it with the chain of sw vols
attached to the end of his line

He cast the bait thu.s „n,,„red «overal times into the
water and drew it towar.l Imuself to see if it revolve^
properly while bein, drawn through the water rVv
thing being satisfactory, Brissette said

;; We now go for beeg 'longe; we get him for sure."
but I ei: " ^ r" '"""""^"' '^ «""''- Brissette,

wltranTir*''""^""^''^ •-"■•-" »>•->■

"Hole' heem in your hnn's. When big 'longe eat
him and run, let him go. p„„ heem in, let heem ,o some
more ; bimeby he get vef tired. ' •

"Yes, but how do you do when alone! You can't
hold the line and row at the same time "

''Hoi' line in mout'. When 'longe come, stop row.
take hoi' on line."

Diplomacy, persuasion and im,,ortunitv were
brought- to bear, and fter a great .lea, of" remon-
strance. an.1 with evMent misgiving on his par* he at
last consented to let me use my ro,l. reel and line, on the
strongest assurance of their strength and reliability,
and that I would be neither displeased nor disap-
pointed If I hooked and then lo.t the largest 'longe
through rny own inability or the breaking or failure
ot my tackle.

498 (tATIIBHKIl WaIJ-LKTH.

With thi» oonccision and undcrstantlinB, we set out
on our return trip. ObcyiiiR the inBtrurtions of Brii.
iette I paid out only twenty-five or thirty yard* of line.
We carefully skirted the lily paila, (fivinj? special atten-
tion to the deep pools where the water had cut away the
banks of the river, and to the darksome reachu of
water beneath the overhanRinK Rrowth of water brush
and other foli8«e. Mile on mile we slowly covered, with
expectation constantly keyed up to intensest pitch, but
all to no porjiose. We came in siRlit of the wide and
deep pool lit the place of our departure near the end of
the rapids without any attack on our leviathan bait.
Brissette's volubility had ceased and anxiety was
depicted on his countenance. We were gently sweeping
around the other side of the pool when I venturd to say,
"Well, Brissette, it begins to look doubtful if your
prediction will be fulfilled to<lay. The big 'longe don't
seem to want to call on the big ch-Hold on, Brissette.
hold on! We've struck a snag 1"

Whiz-izz-izz-zz-z went the reel. The fight was on,
and we were launched at once into the storm center of
exciting sport.

The mighty fish threw his weight on the rod and
it yielded to the strain in graceful Mipse. Away he
went down stream, pulling the boat after him as if it
was drawn bv a stout pony. The strain was too great
and ho hurled himself defiantly out of the water, the
embodiment of untamed fury an.l piscatorial ferocity.
'•Hon Dieu! Mon Dim! but he is de bigges' fader
of dem all! Nex' tam he come he eat up your leetly
string and feedle stceck and laf at Yankee man from
State! Brissette mek him cool off and go 'long home
widhimfor sure."

A Dav With AltHKAi-oNOR in ('anada -JttK
"Just wait a little while, Uri.gette. and gee what the
Yankee ,„an ami hi» fld,lle»tick will do. He'll cool hira
oil all nght."

Down to the Imttoin went the 'lounge to 8ulk. A few
g.-ntle turns of the reel and like a flnnh out a^ain came
tue tiger of the waters, shaking his head to free himself
from the cruel barb; but the multiplying reel an.l the
resiliency of the split bamboo rod gave Imn no .slack
line and conse(|uently no chance to escape.

Sapntti, hut I nevaire see like dat before, me ' One
eet y feedle string and one leetly Hddle steek mek
hohl moH' bigges' 'loung.. as ever was."

i;.ii"«'. iV" :*'•""■ *■"" ''"'"'■*' ' »«' ""•""«'' »■'"" »li»'

little hd.lle string un.l the little fiddle stick will ,lo "
Meanwhile his royal majesty made another drive
away from the boat with great speed an.l power. To
the resistance of the drag on the reel I «,lded the
pressure of my thumb on the line, but he never c-asetl
in his (light until ho had t«k, n out son,.. f„rtv or liftv
yards of line. H,. then starte.l on a circuit of'the pool
which I endeavored to check l,v giving him th,. butt of
the rod an.l by reeling in wlu.never for a nu,in,.nt he
desisted from pulling and tugging. Twice .luring the
circuit he essHye.l th,. aerial act, but with l,.ss impetu-
osity an.l vioU'iic... It was ..asy to see that the severe
strain of the ro.l was telling on his strength. He
turned about and made another wil.l rush as if to pass
underneath the boat, but reeling in .pucklv and putting
pressure on the ro.l I frustrnt...l his plan and prevente.l
the line from getting entangle.l with the oars, as woul.l
otherwise probably have been the case. That seeme.l
to infuriate him anew and again he essayed to leap out
of the water as his only hope of escape; but he was

50(1 GaTIIKKKD WAtfl.ETS.

unable to force more than his head and back above
the surface of the water.

Alas! good fighter! Alas! mighty warrior! All
•langer is past and it is only a question of patience,
care and time before your royal sway is at an end.

The fi"ht was fast and furious, permitting of no
conversation nor idle banter. Brissette, while carefully
managing the boat, did not for an instant cease o
re-ard the, to him, unequal contest with an intensity
of'inter.st bordering on enthusiasm and amazement.
"Ah' Brissette," I ventured at last, "see the big
follow is getting tired. Now what do you think of the
fiddle string and the little fiddle stick?"

"Bah -'osh! fee.lle string and fe(>dle steeck all right
when Yankee man play de feedle. Bah gosh! I nevaire
see like dat, me." This by way of compliment and
praise, for your Frenchman is nothing if not pohte and
complimentary. .

"Thank you, Brissette, but we haven't got him into

the boat yet." j , u

"For sure, our 'longe! I jomp in wataire and pull

him on shore."

"Well, not just now, Brissette. He is cooling down
all right, and when all the fight is out of him I will
lead him around to the edge of the boat Then you can
slip your thumb and fingers into his gills and lift him

'"'Ten minutes more passed and the struggle was at
an end The fierce fighter could be led about as gently
as a fingerling. I reeled in the line. As the 'longe
neared the gunwale the hand of Brissette laid firm
hold on the gills and soon the monster was writhing
on the bottom of the boat. A merciful blow «v the

From Nati-re Up To xXATfRE's G„n :m

base of the skull ended the struggle and Brissette
pulled for the shore.

As the shadows of , n oning gathered, a proud proces-
sion moved thrc rh the villn ,.• street, to the surprise
and wondermen, o! passtrs oy, who were generous
with oongratulat.,,:s an! pr.ise. At last the village
store was reached and the scale registered 28V4 pounds
as the weight of my prize. I returned to my home
with pleasant recollections, well content to have spent
the day on Pike river with old Briasette.-Recreation
December, 1902.

FROM NATURE UP TO NATURE'S GOD.

BEFORE the creation of mankind in the person
of our first parents, Adam and Eve, it pleased
the Omnipotent Jehovah to clothe and adorn
the landscape and towering mountains with the
offspring of His power and love.

In the first chapter of Genesis we read that on the
third day God said: "Let the earth bring fortli the
green herb, and such as may seed, and the fruit tree
yielding fruit after its kind, which may have seed in
itself upon the earth, and it was done.

And the earth brought forth Jie green herb, and such
as yieldeth seed according to its own kind, and the tree
that beareth fruit, liaving seed each one acconling to
its own kind. And God saw that it was good."

And why should it not be good? A creation for a
definite purpose, a specified end, without restriction
or limitation to place or time— to serve and to serve

r)02

Gatiikukd AVaiklets.

only the purposes of a kind and all-wise Creator — how
could it, how can it be otherwise than good? Created
by God for a God-like end, without power to rebel or
offend, who shall say that God's ways are not highest
wisdom, that His purposes do not

"through countless ages unceasing run,"
that His power and love are not now everywhere as
manifest as in the time of creation, and that His
mercies do not still abide in His works to proclaim His
Omnipotence, to bless and to cheer?

The world of Nature is one vast school-house, but
man — inconsistent, thoughtless man — is prone to
neglect, mis-interpret, or forget the many valuable
lessons taught therein. These are everywhere in
evidence, illimitable and exhaustless, and they are
adajited to the idiosyncracies, temperaments and capa-
bilities of all.

Philosophers, scientists ami students may actively
spend all the days of long lives without avail in the
attempt to measure the extent of space, to determine
the movement of the planets therein, or to adequately
depict the beauty of the starry heavens and the music
of the spheres. But all these and much more that are
beyond the range of the masses of mankind, have their
counterpart in things mundane, things around and
about us with which we are all familiar, things com-
monplace, if anything created by Omnipotence may
be so called, and they teach equally important and
valuable lessons to all who have open eyes and a rever-
ent mind. Along this more humble pathway we shall
direct our footsteps.

Going hence, we see the running vine and scented
flower, the gnarled oak and towering pine, the waving

! I.

From Xauke Vv To Xati rks Co,, :,„-.]
grass and blooming lily; but in tbeir luxunane,. an.l
beauty we can read no trace of tlie sorrow of an
offended God which is recorded in tlio Scriptures
agamst the dereliction from duty of His higliest crea
tion when He said "It repented Him" for having
created man.

But our steps are directed toward the wilderness
which clothes the mountain side, and the thought com-
forts and encourages us that there at l.'ast we slnll
be alone in His creation-there at least we shall escape
from the traps and [.it-falls so iii,lustriuuslv and seduc-
tively planned and laid by man to ensnare and de-rade
his brother-there at least we shall have God's work
upon the third day for associates and companions.

Standing alone upon the acclivity we se(> a giant oak,
gnarled and scarre.l by the storn"is and buffetings of
lengthened years, its roots growing deeper and tinner
with every onslaught, its massive limbs outstretched
as if in <lefiance to the storm's severity and tlie assaults
of Time. In tliis sturdy and detiant picture we see a
type of the hermit of old who sueeessfully battled for
God and right, and who was content to stand alone and
battle for righteousness though all the world opposed.
But now we have passed to the denser growtli of the
conifers that live in such close and helpful relation as
to suggest the members of human commur.ities who for
the greater love and glory of God live apart from the
world, their prayers and good deeds purifying the
atmosphere in which they live and ascending to the
great white throne on high even as the balsamic fra-
grance of the trees purifies and perfumes th<' sur-
rounding atmosphere.

I 5

.-)(I4

(iATlIKKKL) WaIKI.KTS

And anon, toil and perseverance brinj? us well up
the mountain si.le where we rest hesi.lo a spring that
gushes forth and pours out its sparkling, saving waters
to revivify and nourish all below, even as the grace of
God is continuously outpoured upon all to revivify, to
no'"" ,'.., to restore and to bless.

Ascending still higher, we encounter what was once
a snnill lakelet, clear as crystal, that once reflected the
c.igle's flight by day and the glittering stars by mght;
but, now, aliisl" through inadvertanee, carelessness, or
malevolence, some member of the human family enkin-
dled a fire which did the work of destruction. Forest
,,.,.,.s— great and mighty— trees that saw the rising and
s,.tting"sun throughout untold centuries— fell before
the devouring element, and where once was a beautiful
forest picture that would please the heart and gladden
the eye of an artist is now a blackened and repulsive
spot in the forest— the once pellucid waters now over-
grown with noxious weeds and transformed into a
miasmatic bog. .

Here is suggested and impressed upon the mind ot
the thoughtful and contemplative one of the saddest
pictures upon which the mind can dwell- the beauty of
the garden of Eden and the fall of man, the work of
the sower of cockle upon the goodly field of wheat, the
work of the unrighteous and ungodly in the world and
the evils resulting therefrom.

Before resuming our upward journey let us search
in the unwholesome and repulsive bog for our old
friend, the modest and retiring pitcher plant, of the
order Sanacrnia, limited to two genera, and known
to the botanist as Saiiacniia piirpni'':'-

A dilligent search is recynired to discover the object

Khom Natirr Ui' To Naitkk's (i„i, ;■,,,.-,
of ' ur <i,u.st hul,l,.„ away bencatli tlio licli,.„s, e„a,s,.
grass and otlicr noxious an,l n.r...l«iv,. un.lci-rowtlis
But our hunt is ,-,.war,l,.,i an.l a^ain w,. Ii„.| our ol,l'
line tavorif Mourisl».a by the stagnant waters of tho
bog, Its urn-slia,)(.<l ix'tiol.. Iill,.,l with the pur,, crvs
tnl.zed ami sparkling ,l,.ws of hoavn, wIum, again w,.
ur,. romin.l,.,! of tli,. goo.lnoss nn.I Mercy of (io,l whioh
abounds m the world amidst th,. wi,.ke,ln,.ss of „„.„
again ^s■o see a type of the human broth(.rhoods an,l sis-
t(.rl,oods, the oas<.s in the desert places of Mfe to
eneourag,. and uplift, an,l again w,. s,.o ov..r and abov,.
all. a typ.. of the Virgin Mother who gave the (io.l.Mau
place in the chalic,. of her virginity while surrounded
l)y an indifr..rent, n.pulsive and sinful worl.l

Climbing still furtln.r up the ascent the nof.s of
smgmg birds tak(. on a pun.r tone .md cheer us on our
valleys below and beyond until the horizon limits our
way. Reaching the summit, we gaze out upon the
vision. We seem lifted above the things of the world
— tlie strife, the passion.s and sins of mankind. \V(.
seem to breathe in a holier atmosphere than is vouch-
safed to them b(.|ow, to he more than recompens(.d f.)r
the toil of the journey even as are those who nianrully
strive in the journey of life for the "well ,lone, good
and faithful servant" of the Master.

We realize that Nature consta.itly suggests and
constantly points upward to Nature's God, and that
he alone is wise whr heeds the helpful h.ssons taught.
"The heavens show forth the glory of god, and'tlK.
firmament ileclareth the work of His hands. "-!.( »»„/,,
of Sawt Anthony's Shrine, Wora'stir, il„«, ,/„„,.
1907.

I I

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Thanksoivino Dinner Menu
Invitation to Ye Guild of Fvshebmen
Bound Mountain Camp Thanksoivino Menu

PAGE
316

408
460

CONTENTS.

TOBQUATO TaSSO .

Money and Banking

The Province of guEBEc and its People'

An Hour with the Puritans and Ph^qrims

Keminiscent and Otherwise

Very Eev. John J. Power, D.D., V.G.

A Christmas Reverie

The Horse in Science and Literature

Trotting Records an Important Factor Whe

Breeding for Speed
The New England Farm and Farmer

A Source op Income

How Sabattis Got His Christmas Dinner

Ferncliffe .

A Pn.GRiMAGE to Our Lady op Lourdes

The Printed Word

Pilgrimages

Wheat and Cockle

Riches in Poverty

130

157

172

179

188
192
197
201
212

227

233

240

243

247

i ^ I

I . 1

CONTENTS — Continued.

PAOE

A Truce in the VV'arfabk of Luf. . 252

The Oldest Book in the World . 257
Moose and Moose Hunting Hints for Budding

NiMKODH 264

Paradoxes and Spoet ..... 274

Massachusetts in A.D. 1900 ... 277

Big Game Hunting 281

Prospecting fob Woodcock in Massachusetts 289

ZiG Zag Experiences — I. . . . . 298

ZiG Zag Experiences — II 303

ZiG Zag Experiences — III 307

ZiG Zag Experiences — IV 311

ZiG Zag Experiences — V. .... 314

Thanksqivinq IN THE Woods .... 316

The Poetrv of Angling .... 328

An Outing Without Rod or Gun . . . 333

The Monarch of Buttermilk Barren . . 340

Negative Soup 349

Mv First Canvasback 356

A CooNLEss Hunt 360

A Day in Massachusetts Covers . . . 364

Thf. Monarch of the Pool .... 372

Our Trip to Little Jo Mary . . 376

Reminiscent ...... 383

A Veracious Narration .... 391

Books in Running Brooks .... 398

Tongues in Trees 401

Pickerel Fishing Through the Ice , 405

Jacking Deer 408

A Day in the Old Dominion .... 414

Only A Dog 418

Veracious Jim 424

Wayside Pictures 429

III 1 i. I

CON-TKN'TS - CV«/;,n,r,/.

•SpoHTsMA.vsiiii. — 149L'-18n2

A Hed Letter Day „x a MlssAcmsETTs T«.„t
Brook

Roses and Thorns

Last Nioht in Camp

The Camp in ti.k Wilderness
Things Wise a;, ;> Oth ERwisE

Huntinq Bio Game in Winter '.

Vacation Pleasantries

MoNoTONV That is Not Monotonous.

Our Summer's Outing

Eves That See and Ears That Hear

From Little Much

Woods Pictures ...

A Dav with Muskalonqe in Canada

From Nature UP TO Nature's God

paoe
4;j:i

V.i-)

440

44(i

4.J1

45r)

460

46(i

470

472

478

480

488

492

501