e first
hoeing, we should go a-fishing on Beaver Pond, and sometimes the promise
was kept. He was a masterful trailer for pickerel; he put into it the
same energy as into his axe and scythe. In the same way that I was
allowed to drive his mare Nancy by holding the slack of the reins, did I
have my part in the fishing excursions. I held a line over the edge of
the boat until the fish bit, then another hand took it and drew it in.
Perch or pout it was mine, and credit and praise were duly given. "What
a smart boy!" words that made me more proud than any commendations I
have heard since. When they were cooked I wanted my own catch to eat and
was humored. And in general that is the boy's disposition; whatever he
captures or finds on trees or on the earth he wishes to eat. No doubt a
green apple and the buds of trees, and all kinds of sweet or peppery
roots give him that wild and strenuous virtue which enables him to
resist pampering and effeminating influences.

Although Uncle Lyman seldom allowed himself a holiday, I believe he
enjoyed it as much as I did. He was simply an older boy; that was the
secret of our sympathy and my admiration for him. He knew so many more
things than I, could do so many more, yet when with me, all in a playful
way as if they were of no account, and only for fun. He was my model and
my ideal of a man in everything that made for me the world. I felt an
inward, irresistible impulsion to do all that he did, just as we are
inclined to beat time to the music that we love. Thus was I taught to
labor and enslaved to it before I knew it; for a boy wants to do what he
sees men do; he must handle the hoe, the rake, the axe and the scythe,
and these are often made to suit his size and strength in order to tempt
him still further on. Thus does he forge his own chains; he is caught in
his own net and his plaything tools become his masters. Now he must mow
and hoe in earnest, however hot the sun, however much he hates to work.
Yet I have never felt any distinction between work and play when the
former was to my liking.

Uncle Lyman's wisdom had been handed down to him by his fathers, and he
had improved it by observation. He added a new touch to the wrinkled
face of ancient use. He knew the properties of all trees, weeds and
herbs. Ash and hornbeam were his most precious woods. Ash served every
purpose this side of iron; it was as good as a rope, for was not the
Gordion knot tied with it? and could be whittle