"The Jonathan Papers" were already familiar to magazine readers before they appeared in the present delightful volume, and those who had shared the whims and idiosyncracies of the two young people in an occasional excursion, might well question what an uninterrupted sojourn with them would be like. Now it should be said at the outset that these papers, while not intended for steady reading, meet this most exacting test; they can be read in immediate succession and lose little of their charm.
to hold and guide that quivering, undulating rod. I was helpless, unless I wished to be torn in shreds. At that moment, as I stood poised, hot, baffled, smarting and stinging with bramble scratches, wishing I could swear like a man and have it out, the air was filled with the liquid notes of a wood thrush. I love the wood thrush best of all; but that he should choose this moment! It was the final touch.
I whistled the blue-jay note, which means "Come," and Jonathan came threshing through the brush, having left his rod.
"Where are you?" he called; "I can't see you."
"No, you can't," I responded unamiably. "You probably never will see me again, at least not in any recognizable form. Help me out!" The thrush sang again, one tree farther away. "No! First kill that thrush!" I added between set teeth, as a slight motion of mine set the brambles raking again.
"Why, why, my dear, what's this?" Then, as he caught sight of me, "Well! You are tied up! Wait; I'll get out my knife."