114 THE ST. REGIS AND SARANACS. " 



There was one learned old Doctor and Professor from 

 New Haven who interested me very much. He" was quite 

 infirm, and his son, who accompanied him, with filial devo- 

 tion anticipated every want. The brave old man was out 

 early every morning, and, with a guide, rowed around the 

 little rocky peninsula, south easter^^ from the hotel, to the 

 mouth of a cold stream that comes through the tama- 

 racks into the lake not far beyond. There, at the edge of 

 the lily-pads (successors of tliose noted l)y W. C. Prime in 

 his delicious volume, " I Go A-Fishing, " on page 125) he 

 skilfully and patiently cast his flies until he took the one 

 big trout awaiting his morning call, and then returned to 

 the hotel to breakfast and for the (h\r 



It was something more than a splendid trout that he 

 brought to our view as we met him at the landing. The 

 young heart in the old body,— the genuine enthusiasm of 

 the veteran angler,— the glorification of the gentle art 

 which has soothed and comforted many an aged philoso- 

 pher,— all this he revealed to us, and we wanted to lift the 

 grand old man to our shoulders and bear him in reverent 

 triumph up the ascent. 



iVnother day, a rol)ust, handsome, middle-aged gentle- 

 man, who they said was a wealthy, hard-working merchant, 

 of New York City, went early in the morning, with his 

 guide, to Osgood Pond. In the early evening they re- 

 tui-ned, the guide bringing, literally, a big back-load of 

 the finest trout I ever saw,— great, splendid fellows, all 

 that the man could comfortably cai-ry. There was admira- 

 tion and rejoicing on all hands, and esi)ecially, among tlie 



