Atnerican Fisheries Society. 157 



stream above the dam before. We have some trout in this pond 

 from this planting that will measure ten inches. 1 am sure they 

 will average seven inches. They are nicely colored and very fat, 

 showing there must be plenty of food for them in the pond as we 

 have not fed them. 



Our brooks in the southern part of the state as you are aware 

 have been partially dry the last three summers. Notwithstanding 

 this there have been some good strings of trout caught in the two 

 last seasons. There is no question but what these trout are the re- 

 sult of the fingerlings planted from the United States Hatchery at 

 Nashua. 



Many of our brooks are infested with every enemy the trout has, 

 from the mud pickerel down, and it is almost impossible for fry to 

 escape them. It is impossible to get men to plant fry properly as a 

 rule. I would give more for 1,000 fingerlings like what we got from 

 you, than for 50,000 fry. Sincerely yours, 



N. WENTWORTH. 



It is not possible to rear in captivity with restricted range 

 and somewhat unnatural food such magnificent specimens as are 

 the gifts of nature in her more kindly moods. Still, Avith our 

 long New England winters and cold waters, we have three ponds 

 of yearlings at ISTashua, reserved for brood stock, which on July 

 15 showed an average weight in the different ponds of from 6 to 

 G.4 oz. each and with numerous specimens weighing one-half 

 pound and upwards and 10 inches or more in length which we 

 Avould be pleased to show to the members of the society. An 

 ■embalmed fish is but a poor illustration ; but, as the mountain 

 will not come to Mohammed, Mohammed must go to the moun- 

 tain. 



The brook trout holds a unique position amongst fishes, 

 somehow this "speckled beauty" has a most peculiar and tender 

 place in our affections. He is associated in memory with the 

 old home, the cool sparkling brook, the ferns and the wild flow- 

 ers, the singing birds and the shady nook, childhood's friends, 

 and the dear old home folks. Ah ! me, those were happy days 

 Indeed. In memory we live them all over again, by the uncer- 

 tain light we can see a youth appear and softly close the door 

 hehind him. A faint glow lights up the east, he lingers a 

 moment on the stoop. The glory of the morning possesses his 

 soul. The cool, moist air comes up from the meadows, rich with 

 the perfumes of the new mown hay and lingers caressingly on 



