SEA TROUT. 



91 



Hal. — I told you so. Now I know this, 

 I shall put on another kind of fly, such as I 

 am sure they have not seen this day. 



Poiet. — It is very small and very gaudy, 

 I believe made with humming bird's feathers. 



Hal. — No. The brightest Java dove's 

 hackle ; kingfisher's, blue and golden phea- 

 sant's feathers, and the red feathers of the 

 paroquet. There was a fish that rose and 

 missed the fly — a sea trout. There, he has 

 taken it, a fresh run fish, from his white 

 belly and blue back. 



Poiet. — How he springs out of the 

 water! He must be 6 or 7 lbs. 



Hal. — Under five, I am sure ; he will 

 soon be tired. He fights with less spirit: 

 put the net under him. There, he is a fine 

 fed sea trout, between 4 and 5 lbs. But our 

 intrusive brother angler (as I must call him,) 

 is coming down the river to take his evening 

 cast. A stout Highlander, with a powerful 

 tail,— or, as we should call it in England, 

 suite. He is resolved not to be driven off, 

 and I am not sure that the Laird himself 

 could divert him from his purpose, except 



