FISHING REMINISCENCES. 305 



to our prowess. Old, musty, moth-eaten fly-hooks and 

 feathers, that appeared as if they had not seen the light 

 of day for years, were produced from his numerous lockers, 

 and as they were examined, and various pages turned over, 

 numerous were the anecdotes narrated in connection with 

 each. 



Jock roused us an hour before daylight next morning, 

 and having discussed an excellent cup of coffee, we got 

 into the stern sheets of one of the boats with two of the 

 crevr to pull us to our destination. As the captain com- 

 menced fishing, a fine sea-trout rose at the fly. Judging from 

 the splash, that he was of more than usual size, and worth 

 making a second effort for, again the cunningly-disguised 

 hook was passed orer his retreat, but with the same result; 

 a third trial was essayed, and as the third time is said to be 

 lucky, so it proved, for the fish was hooked. The struggles 

 and devices this fish practised to escape were worthy of 

 success ; three times he ran out many a yard of line, and 

 on each occasion jumped several times clear of the water; 

 but all was futile, for after upwards of ten minutes' play 

 he was obliged to surrender to skill and practice. My 

 companion called upon me to use the gaff, and with the 

 first effort I succeeded in landing him on terra firma* 

 We had no scales to weigh him, and we were too tired, and 

 had killed nobler specimens before we returned to think 

 more of this little hero; but from experience I am confident 

 he must have reached nearly five pounds. On examin- 

 ation of our ground we mutually agreed to separate, one 

 taking the left and the other the right side of the river. 

 Trees and brush did not grow sufficiently near its margin 



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