A DAY WITH MASGALONGE 



" Plobly," answered Brissette, as he threw away 

 the match after lighting his pipe, and purring out 

 volumes of smoke we moved gently along again. 



The tip of the rod is raised and lowered a few 

 degrees, tangents of a circle are described ; but 

 all to no purpose, — all is " but as sounding brass 

 and tinkling cymbal " to Lucius masquinongy . 



We have covered five miles, and yet no rise or 

 sign to encourage our patience and efforts. 



My phantom minnow in turn is discarded for 

 a St. Lawrence gang. More miles are covered 

 without encouragement or reward. We near the 

 few spreading elms near the turning point, and I 

 suggest to Brissette that we go ashore for a little 

 rest, and to eat our lunch. 



Climbing up the precipitous bank of the river, 

 we saw murky clouds rolling up toward the zenith 

 from the western horizon. They were frequently 

 intersected and illuminated by zigzag chains of 

 lightning. It was evident that a heavy shower 

 was not far off, and we deemed it wise to seek 

 the shelter of an outlying barn some distance 

 away. 



We had just begun to dispose of our refresh- 

 ments, seated upon mounds of sweet-scented, 

 newly-gathered hay, when great raindrops beat 

 a restful tattoo upon the roof. The wind grew in 

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