All along The Street folks are fishing, and they are catching plenty; the lake fairly teems with bass and trout and pickerel. An artist—another summer fellow, judging from his smock and nancy beret—has set up his easel and is painting the mountains while two ladies watch respectfully. A giggle of girls passes, whispering about boys and clothes and school. There is beauty here, and peace. Devore’s right to say this is a world I never knew. It’s
Source: Bag of Bones ▫𓂃