“Well, who wants to gather moss except a few fussy old ladies?” demanded Crane. “Yes, I’m a rolling stone, I suppose; and I go rolling round the earth as the earth goes rolling round the sun. But I’ll tell you what; there’s one kind of stone that does really gather moss.” “And what is that, my rambling geologist?” “A gravestone,” said Crane. There was a silence, and Hood sat gazing with his owlish face at the dim pool in which the dark woods were mirrored. At last he said: “Moss isn’t the only thing found on that. Sometimes there is the word _Resurgam_.” “Well, I hope you will,” said Crane genially. “But the trumpet will have to be pretty loud to wake you up. It’s my opinion you’ll be too late for the Day of Judgment.” “Now if this were a true dramatic dialogue,” remarked Hood, “I should answer that it would be better for you if you were. But it hardly seems a Christian sentiment for a parting. Are you really off to-day?” “Yes, to-night,” replied his friend. “Sure you won’t come with me to the Cannibal Islands?” “I prefer my own island,” said Mr. Owen Hood. When his friend had gone he continued to gaze abstractedly at the tranquil topsy-turvydom in the green mirror of the pool, nor did he change his posture and hardly moved his head. This might be partly explained by the still habits of a fisherman; but to tell the truth, it was not easy to discover whether the solitary lawyer really wanted to catch any fish. He often carried a volume of Isaak Walton in his pocket, having a love of the old English literature as of the old English landscape. But if he was an angler, he certainly was not a very complete angler. But the truth is that Owen Hood had not been quite candid with his friend about the spell that held him to that particular islet in the Upper Thames. If he had said, as he was quite capable of saying, that he expected to catch the miraculous draught of fishes or the whale that swallowed Jonah, or even the great sea-serpent, his expressions would have been merely symbolical. But they would have been the symbol of something as unique and unattainable. For Mr. Owen Hood was really fishing for something that very few fishermen ever catch; and that was a dream of his boyhood, and something that had happened on that lonely spot long ago.