A Sportsman 55 



which led him from the first taste to denounce the 

 strength of his portion and to add more from the 

 pitcher, filling his glass nearly to its brim. We had 

 a difficulty in concealing our hilarity, while Booth, 

 with a wry face, bolted the greater part of his glass, 

 and declared by the horns of the sacred bull that if 

 liquor restrictions in Maine resulted in yielding liquors 

 of the strength of ours, there was still a balm in 

 Gilead. Pretty soon he gave us a hornpipe jig in 

 double time, and discovered our excess of mirth, which 

 no longer had cause to be concealed. 



Booth was in his prime, and constitutionally sub- 

 ject to varying moods ; at times highly elated, followed 

 by great depressions, and both would go to extremes. 

 He fought hard against these tendencies, as against 

 his disposition to indulge too freely in drink, and in 

 the later years of his life largely overcame these 

 features. 



In fishing he would exhibit the impetuosity of a 

 Petruchio, and this cost me several rods, which he 

 broke into smithereens over small trout. He got in 

 one day from a neighboring town a new fairly good 

 bamboo fly rod, which I assisted him in setting up, 

 arranging the reel and line and pliable soaked leader, 

 and left him afterwards noosing on a scarlet ibis. 

 The rod was lying on the dining-room table. I was 

 no sooner out of the rooms on the porch, when I heard 

 a tremendous rumpus in the dining-room, and enter- 

 ing found Booth flying about the room like a mad- 

 man. He had left his fly hanging over the side of 

 the table, which the half -grown family cat present, 

 seeing, struck at with its paw, which the sharp hook 

 caught in, and the frightened cat bolted under the 



