TROUT 63 



of flies, and even the cheery whitethroat 

 in the willows seems to be oppressed 

 with the lassitude of summer, and sings 

 in a less lively tone. The fierce rays of 

 light penetrate the clear water and illu- 

 mine the gravel that lies at the bottom 

 of the deepest pools. The surface of the 

 stream is as smooth as glass, save where 

 the trickling current all that is left of 

 the amber flood of spring with a faint 

 rippling song twists its idle way between 

 the stones of the river-bed. One might 

 as well angle on the dusty roads, but our 

 ardent friends work off their abundance 

 of excess energy with a perseverance 

 which is so tragically pitiful that it makes 

 one feel hot and jaded to think of it. 



Unwearily they plod their woeful way 

 under the most unpropitious circum- 

 stances, and vainly, with all the forces 

 of nature against them, hope to outwit 

 the cunning trout "a trout that is more 

 sharp-sighted than any hawk, and more 



