TROUTING ON THE NEPIGON. 



BY W. H. H. MURRAY. 



HELLO!" I exclaimed, as I glanced at the time-table, 

 which, in the form of an illustrated itinerary, lay on 

 the table. "We must be nearing the Nepigon." 



"The Nepigon!" exclaimed the judge, with the ardor of a 

 sportsman. "More monstrous Trout have been caught in 

 the Nepigon than in any other river on the continent. I have 

 friends who firmly believe that it is one of the four sacred 

 rivers that flow out of paradise." 



"I think I would agree with them," I laughingly returned, 

 "if they would make their paradise include not only the 

 river, but the lake in which it heads. For if Lake Nepigon 

 was not in paradise it was a great loss for paradise." And 

 as I spoke, the train struck the bridge which stretches 

 across the noble and noted river, and as it was gliding 

 smoothly on it slowed, and suddenly stopped. 



"Oh, oh, oh!" 



"See, Tom, look!" 



"Jones, where are you?" 



"Fo' de Lawd, Mars' Judge," exclaimed the waiter, "you 

 two gemmen git to de hind end ob de kyar, ef you wants ter 

 see what's gwine on down dar in dat ribber." 



The excitement was contagious, for the car was full of 

 shouts, cheers, and exclamations. The judge rushed down 

 the aisle to the rear of the car. 



"Great heavens!" he exclaimed, as he reached the plat- 

 form. "Look at that!" 



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