December 30, 1923. Omaha Sunday World-Herald 59(13): 3-W. A Forest and Stream Letter Box feature. A Dream.Dedicated to Sandy G.
- I dreamed of a lake, deep hid in the woods,
- In length it was more than a mile.
- I saw it dotted here and there,
- By many a small green isle.
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- I also saw bluffs,
- To the shore dropping steep,
- Their casting shadows
- Making the water look deep.
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- This lake of which I dreamed had many bays,
- In fact an irregular shore.
- In which grew rushes, wild rice,
- And lily pads galore.
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- Here and there I saw a rock,
- And an occasional log,
- So enticing to the angler,
- To try with fly or frog.
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- To hook the wary bass,
- No doubt there in wait,
- To make its fierce rush,
- When he cast out the bait.
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- A companion I had,
- A friend staunch and true,
- We each getting pleasure,
- From woods and canoe.
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- On the shore of the lake,
- Where in followed a brook,
- We had built our log cabin,
- In a well shaded nook.
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- We would pass our time hunting,
- Or in casting for fish.
- Thus living close to nature,
- Nothing more did we wish.
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- On came the Fall,
- The best time of the year.
- When we shot many partridge,
- And an occasional deer.
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- As the weather turned colder,
- And the ducks took to flight,
- We had sport beyond measure,
- Each morning and night.
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- Then when the winter came on,
- With snow falling light,
- In the hunting of rabbits,
- Time took its quick flight.
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- The weather grew colder.
- And the snow it piled high,
- With our pipe and our book,
- The days they slipped by.
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- Then I awoke,
- And found it a dream,
- But surely in dreamland,
- Did I live a life supreme.
- - Frank Chittenden.
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