over him. It is a malady that no prescription compounded by the hand
of a physician can alleviate. Its only antidote is a liberal dose of
Mother Nature's remedy, "God's Out-of-Doors."

What changes the close contact of nature makes in her loving children!
You would hardly know these men dressed in khaki suits and flannel
shirts, smoking their evening pipes around the camp fire, as the same
men who attend receptions and banquets in the city, dressed in
conventional evening clothes; and I dare say they enjoy the camp fire,
with its homely fare and cheery blaze, far more than electric-lighted
parlors and costly catering.

But the camp fire wanes. A stick burns through and falls asunder,
sending up a shower of sparks. Charred embers only remain. We spread
our blankets with knapsack for pillow. With no sound of traffic to
mar our slumbers, soothed by the wind in the branches, and the gentle
song of the mountain brook for a lullaby, we are wooed to sleep on the
broad bosom of Mother Earth.




[Illustration]

Trout Fishing in the Berkeley Hills


Since the days when Izaak Walton wrote The Complete Angler, men have
emulated his example, and gone forth with rod and reel to tempt the
finny tribe from dashing mountain brook or quiet river.