TROUr OF THE KENNEBEC 



Taking my station on the platform, I made a 

 long cast, and struck a heavy fish. The water was 

 pouring with a powerful swing through the gates 

 at my left into the river. I must pull that fish 

 toward me, past the heavy currents, and not let 

 him get the better of me. To add to my trouble, 

 a storm had brought in a large tree, and placed it 

 ten feet in front of me, so I must also guide the 

 fish around that tree, and then past me to the right 

 until, getting him alongside the wharf to my right, 

 I could reach down and net him. With several 

 narrow escapes that quickened my heart, I at last, 

 got him to the wharf, and, having neglected to bring 

 my net, raised a yell for help that, heard above the 

 roar of the water, brought a net in which I landed 

 a handsome two-pound-and-nine-ounce trout. 



With this last triumph, I took the midnight 

 train for home, content, and in the hope that a 

 kindly Providence will allow me to visit that 

 beautiful Kennebec for years to come. 



