What
a novel life, to be introduced to a dead sucker floating on the water
in the spring! Where was it spawned, pray? The sucker is so recent, so
unexpected, so unrememberable, so unanticipatable a creation. While so
many institutions are gone by the board, and we are despairing of men
and of ourselves, there seems to be life even in a dead sucker, whose
fellows at least are alive. The world never looks more recent or
promising - religion, philosophy, poetry - than when viewed from this
point. To see a sucker tossing on the spring flood, its swelling,
imbricated breast heaving up a bait to not-despairing gulls! It is a
strong and a strengthening sight. Is the world coming to an end? Ask
the chubs. As long as fishes spawn, glory and honor to the cold-blooded
who despair! As long as ideas are expressed, as long as friction makes
bright, as long as vibrating wires make music of harps, we do not want
redeemers. What a volume you might [write] on the separate virtues of
the various animals, the black duck and the rest!
