Apple Blossoms
WHEN APPLE BLOSSOMS are in bloom they say the trout fishing is best. They used to say this in Connecticut. Allowing for the season about two weeks later in this North Country the latter part of May and early June is the time when squaretails and rainbow hit your fly in white water, the welcome tug tightens your line and bends the rod. When he's in the net the sky seems bluer, the ripple of water around your boots is sweet music, the lush green valley is a setting from Paradise.
Far away, but it hasn't seemed so far lately, men who yearn for a rod and line are holding guns. Where they long to cast softly from the bank of a quiet pool, in a peaceful brook, they march brusquely, heavy boots turning the clear stream to muddy, troubled waters. Where they would stretch out full length in a fragrant meadow to look eagerly for a likely trout, they cling desperately to the bosom of the earth, craving only to be saved from death or mutilation.
"Amen" we say to the plea for a world at peace by Boynton Merrill '15, carried in these pages this month. "Amen" we say, but with a heart heavy and filled with tragic foreboding.
