124 FISHING WITH THE FLY. 



line fairly swished as he tore up stream ; above him 

 lay the limb of a tree, scraggy and ragged ; toward 

 this he plunged, but the line tightened on him ; he 

 tugged and jerked, biu gained not an inch ; he came to 

 the surface and thrashed the water with his broad tail. 

 Fatal error ! as he did so the line came in as fast as 

 fingers could fly round, the landing net was slipped 

 under him, a quick upward movement and Master 

 Salmo was flung high and dry. He was too big for 

 the net and so was ignominiously flung ashore. 



What a noble trout ! His silver sides and belly 

 gleamed in the light, his blood-red spots seemed to glow 

 with indignation at his cruel death. He had long been 

 a lordling over the other trout and now was strangling ! 

 Kill him ! I cannot bear to see a trout gasping. Killed 

 and scaled he weighs three and a half pounds. A credit 

 to the angler : but at times, daring the contest, it was a 

 question to which the honor belonged ; it was: " Splen- 

 did rod !" "Ah ! how skilfully he handles his fish." 

 " Who would have dreamt that little thing would have 

 stood such a strain ? " 



Gentle angler, let us leave our friend to the contem- 

 plation of the beauties of the fairest of all England's 

 garden landscapes, and the preserved trout streams, 

 and plunge with me into an American forest. 



By a beautiful lake in the famous State of Michigan 

 a little settlement is springing up. Over in that bay 

 is a trout creek emptying ; it is full of trout — trout 

 galore — trout by the hundreds can be seen. Come with 



