90 THE ST. REGIS AND SAEANACS. 



the sound of his diiiuer-horu ; so I interjected the query, 

 " How is tisliing down at Paul Smith's ? " 



" Oh, Avell, " answered Fuller, doubtless anticipatin,^' the 

 next question would relate to modes of conveyance, "you 

 don't need to go there for trout. Osgood Pond, this side of 

 Paul's, is better than anything he can show you, and you 

 can make a day's journey there from here and get all the 

 trout you want. Start early in the morning, boat it up the 

 inlet, take your baskets full of trout, and come back. " 



And we went to bed on that programnu". 



The next morning we were up bright and early, and bus- 

 tled around as if there was a twelve o'clock edition of an 

 afternoon paper to get out, or an important lawsuit to be 

 called at the opening of court. But, for reasons not then 

 quite apparent to us, nobody else hurried; our landlord was 

 easy and quiet; our guides found a world of important 

 affairs to attend to before starting; and the nu)rning was 

 well advanced before we four and our boatmen were off 

 and away to Osgood Pond. 



Our little flotilla moved gail}^ down the lake. The strong- 

 armed oarsmen, witli well-seasoned backs, swe])t the wave- 

 lets with even strokes, and thescnsation of deliciouscomfort 

 and ease we experienced, as we were borne alojig without 

 effort over the li(|uid surface, was something to remember. 

 TheCaslleof Indolencehas notliing toetpialit initsentirely 

 respecta))le and righteous la/Jness. 



At the iidet— the river from Osgood Pond — we entered 

 upon a sluggish, winding, alder fringed stream, which, for 

 utter silence, weird loneliness and an interest all its own, 



