BROOK-TROUT FISHING 



and free. The cows were abroad.betimes and 

 occasionally a brown hare would hop awk- 

 wardly away deeper into the thickets. Some- 

 times a covey of ruffed grouse, with a roar 

 of wings, would flush and scatter away to the 

 trees. 



The path was never far away from the 

 brook, and after reaching a point about a 

 third of the way up, the turn to the brook was 

 only a matter of a few yards. Pushing 

 through the brush I would come to the 

 stream and begin operations. The rubber 

 knee-boots which I had brought along would 

 be transferred to my legs in a few seconds, 

 and I would fasten my line to the end of my 

 cane pole and select a hook from a cap-box 

 full in my pocket. The way I fished ha- 

 bitually for the noble and aristocratic salmo 

 fontinalis would have made " a follower of 

 the faithful " shudder. My fly-book, I am 

 compelled to say apologetically, was simply 

 a can of worms just plain angle-worms. 

 The trout in those brooks may or may not 

 have been acquainted with the virtues of the 

 various hackles, coachmen, millers, Seth 

 Green, grizzly king, bucktail, and other arti- 



H7 



