STILL FISHING. 187 



— the voice of the stream whispering in his ears — its moist 

 breath stealing through his grizzled locks — and its rippling 

 smile flashing on his tired eyes ! 



A Retrospection. 



An old negro house-servant and a bright-e^^ed, flaxen- 

 haired boy of eight summers sat side by side under a mill- 

 dam, fishing. The old man was engaged in earnest conver- 

 sation, to which the lad was an eager listener, save when 

 interrupted by the pulling out of a fish or the re-baiting of 

 a hook : 



" Yas, Percy Lee, it's jist wasteful 'stravagance fer yo' 

 papa to buy sich lavish, shiny fish-poles an' silver reel con- 

 trapshuns dat run riot wid his money. All de fish in de 

 Elkhorn wouldn't 'gin to pay intrust on 'em. He's de beat- 

 enes' man for 'stravagance I eber see. 



" De bestes' fish-pole is de strettes' an' slimmes' ellum 

 saplin' you kin fine ; cut in de fall in de lite ob de 

 moon, an' peeled in de shade, an' put up in de lof ' nex' to 

 de cabin chimbly all wintah. An' de Bass an' chan"l-cat 

 won't know Avedder it cos' two cents or de price ob a year- 

 lin' mule, case you yank 'em out so quick dey ain't got 

 time to tink 'bout it." 



" Yes, but Uncle Enoch, papa don't like to yank 'em out 

 so quickly." 



'' No, honey, an' dats' wat beats me. He jis' goes a- 

 wadin' in de water — an' he'll done cotch his deff" o' rheuma- 

 tiz one ob dese days — a-whippin' his little shiny switch, an' 

 a-flippin' his fiddle-string line wid little teenty fedder-flies, 

 an' de Bass cotch holt, an' ben' an' twis' de little pole, an' 

 run off wid de line — an' Mars' Dick wind 'em up agin, an' 

 de Bass pull out de line agin, an' jump out to see wat 



