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!