passed and no bite. That time-worn 

 recipe for a sleigh ride must have 

 been created by an incipient angler, 

 "wrap up in furs, put the feet in ice- 

 water and sit in a snow drift." Bert 

 pulled down his hat still further on 

 the wind side and remarked: 



" They 're most done biting for to- 

 day. ('Most done' forsooth, with 

 what had never been.) We might 

 go around this bay once more. It 

 looks a good place." 



Somewhere doubtless the sun was 

 setting gloriously, Phoebus' s chariot 

 was visible triumphantly pursuing 

 its brilliant western track, but here 

 on the little bay, edged with jack 

 pines, only deepening shadows told 

 of its progress. Conscientiously I 

 held the rod in the approved fashion, 

 and, to forget the aggressive discom- 

 fort, had sent my thought far away 

 to southern Italy to a certain moon- 

 lit marble terrace perfumed by 

 orange groves in bloom and musicked 

 by the voluptuous lapping of blue 

 waves upon a glistening shore. 



Suddenly a strong tug ran along the 

 line, and up my spine, then a short 

 tug sent a kindred electric thrill. 



