FISHES. 21 



through Glendale, and loses itself in the sluggish 

 Till. 



"In the parching summer of 1826, I frequently 

 retired with a book to a shady little retreat on the 

 bank of this river, to spend a few hours in con- 

 templative indolence, where, by a mill- dam fifty 

 feet wide, with a sloping shore of fine sand re- 

 ceding into four feet depth of water, a little sort 

 of fish-parlour was formed by a projecting willow, 

 reaching several feet across the upper end. The 

 spot I soon observed was tenanted by one large 

 Trout, who played the tyrant to admiration, 

 — saving that his sentences were always either 

 annihilation or banishment, for there was no tor- 

 ture. When I sat quite still he did not ap- 

 pear to see me, and came so near that I could 

 count the crimson speckles on his side, and see 

 the inhalations and exhalations of his gills. The 

 grace of his motions, when he moved from his 

 station to see what was disturbing the surface of 

 the water (a fly, or bit of palm-down), was beauti- 

 fully contrasted with the violence with which he 

 repelled every intruder upon his imperial territory. 

 He flew at the victim like a bull-dog ; but as I 

 never saw him meet with his match, or one that 

 would stand flght, I can form no opinion of his 

 knight-errantry. He, however, allowed various 

 sized Minnows to sport about the shore, his 

 only food at this time appearing to be flies (who 

 always fled at his approach to the shelter of the 

 shore), and he did not condescend to eye these 

 reserved victims of his appetite. This scene was 

 repeated for many days together. But perhaps 

 a more amusing one was that of a little Prickly- 

 back [or Stickleback], a little knight armed cap- 



