He that made the world made man to take delight in it; even as thou saw’st me joyful with the shepherds—ay, with godly Mr. Richard Hooker, “he being then tending his small allotment of sheep in a common field,” as I recount in a brief life of a good man. As to what awaits me on the other side of that River, I do expect it with a peaceful heart, and in humble hope that a man may reach the City with a cheerful countenance, no less than through groans and sighs and fears. For we have not a tyrant over us, but a Father, that loveth a cheerful liver no less than a cheerful giver. Nevertheless, I thank thee for thy kind thought of one that is not of thy company, nor no Nonconformist, but a peaceful Protestant. And, lest thou be troubled with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil spirits, read that comfortable sermon of Mr. Hooker’s to weak believers, on the _Certainty of Adherence_, though they want the inward testimony of it. But now falls there a sweet shower, “a singing shower” saith old George Chapman, and methinks I shall have sport; for I do note that the mayfly is up; and, seeing all these beautiful creatures playing in the air and water, I feel my own heart play within me; and I must out and dape under yonder sycamore tree. Wherefore, prithee, pardon me a longer discourse as at this time.—Thy friend, PISCATOR. XIV. _From Truthful James to Mr. Bret Harte_. WILLIAM NYE’S EXPERIMENT. Angel’s. DEAR BRET HARTE, I’m in tears, And the camp’s in the dust, For with anguish it hears As poor William may bust, And the last of the Nyes is in danger of sleeping the sleep of the just. No revolver it was Interfered with his health, The convivial glass Did not harm him by stealth; It was nary! He fell by a scheme which he thought would accumulate wealth! For a Moqui came round To the camp—Injun Joe; And the dollars was found In his pockets to flow; For he played off some tricks with live snakes, as was reckoned a competent show. They was rattlers; a pair In his teeth he would hold, And another he’d wear Like a scarf to enfold His neck, with them dangerous critters as safe as the saint was of old. Sez William, “That same Is as easy as wink. I am fly to his game; For them rattlers, I think, Has had all their incisors extracted. They’re harmless as suthin’ to drink.” So he betted his pile He could handle them snakes; And he tried, with a smile, And a rattler he takes, Feeling safe as they’d somehow been doctored; but bless you, that sarpent awakes!