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Show FISHERMAN'S LUCK certain poor fishermen, coming in very weary after a night of toil (and one of them very wet after swimming ashore), found their Master standing on the bank of the lake waiting for them. But it seems that he must have been busy in their behalf while he was waiting; for there was a bright fire of coals burning on the shore, and a goodly fish broiling thereon, and bread to eat with it. And when the Master had asked them about their fishing, he said, "Come, now, and get your breakfast." So they sat down around the lire, and with his own hands he served them with the bread and the fish. Of all the banquets that have ever been given upon earth, that is the one in which I would rather have had a share. But it is now time that we should return to our fishing. And let us observe with gratitude that ahnost all of the pleasures that are connected with this pursuit-its accompaniments and variations, which run along with the tune and weave an embroidery of delight around it-have an accidental and gratuitous quality about them. They are not to be counted upon beforehand. They are l!4 l<'ISHERMAN'S LUCK like something that is thrown into a purchase by a generous and open-handed dealer, to make us pleased with our bargain and inclined to come back to the same shop. If I knew, for example, before setting out for a day on the brook, precisely wha.t birds I should see, and what pretty little scenes in the drama of woodland life were to be enacted before my eyes, the expedition would lose more than half its charm. But, in fact, it is almost entirely a matter of luck, and that is why it never grows tiresome. The ornithologist knows pretty well where to look for the birds, and he goes directly to the places where he can lind them, and proceeds to study them intelligently and systematically. But the angler who idles down the stream takes them as they come, and all his observations have a flavour of surprise in them. He hears a familiar song,--one that he has often heard at a distance, but never identified,-a loud, cheery, rustic cadence sounding from a low pinetree close beside him. He looks up carefully through the needles and discovers a hooded warbler, a tiny, l!5 |