46 .rOCK S TiAKE. 



fly-rod, and in a fair fight captured my first trout witli Iho 

 fly, a little blush of shame mantled my cheek at the recol- 

 lection that I was so happy on that first morning at Jock's 

 Lake. I can imagine man}^ compensations that will come 

 with old age, — if, indeed, it shall come, — for the losses of 

 enjoyment that befall impaired physical faculties; Init what 

 shall come in the place of camp and tramp in tlie Adiron- 

 dacks, and the glorious joy of casting the fly over the pools 

 and in the rapids of forest streams, and the leap and dash 

 and play of the gamy and beautiful trout! — This, however, 

 is not what I was thinkiug of, as I sat in the boat that 

 morning and drew in trout after trout, as handsome and as 

 gamy as any I have since seen. 



"Hi! Hi! tliat never will do," exclaimed Benson, as 

 I was al)out to lift to m}' lips a cup of water dipped from the 

 pure, spring-fed lake; "j^ou'll be sure to be sick if you 

 drink that. Here, — pour a little of this 'enlivener' into 

 it," bringing out from his pocket a flask of brandy. 



"I never drink, you know." 



"No matter — I don't drink, myself, except in the woods, 

 —but you must take a drop here, or we'll have an incon- 

 veniently sick man on our hands." 



The last argument was conclusive, and I poured some of 

 the contents of his flask into the cup of water, and drank. 

 AVe continued fishing, but I speedily lost interest in tlie 

 sport. In fact, by the time we reached camp, again, I was 

 pale and weak and sick. The delicate stomach I had 

 brought with me into the woods had rebelled at the unac- 



