Fly Fishing in Wonderland

Front matter

Reading edition

A HILL VAGABOND

Snakin' wood down the mount'ins,

Fishin' the little streams;

Smokin' my pipe in the twilight,

An' dreamin' over old dreams;

Breathin' the breath o' the cool snows,

Sniffin' the scent o' the pine;

Watchin' the hurryin' river,

An' hearin' the coyotes whine.

This is life in the mount'ins,

Summer an' winter an' fall,

Up to the rainy springtime,

When the birds begin to call.

Then I fix my rod and tackle,

I read, I smoke an' I sing.

Glad like the birds to be livin'—

Livin' the life of a king!

—Louise Paley in The Saturday Evening Post.

TO JOHN GILL IN WHOSE COMPANIONSHIP I HAVE PASSED MANY DELIGHTFUL DAYS ALONG THE STREAMS AND IN THE WOODS; QUIET ENJOYABLE EVENINGS WATCHING THE ALPENGLOW ILLUMINATE THE SNOW-CAPPED MOUNTAINS; AND STORMY NIGHTS BESIDE THE SEA