82 FISHING WITH THE FLY. 



an interview with Mr. Allerton, who was the Treasurer 

 of the Oquossoc Angling Association, and by his advice 

 joined the club, and in due time started for the prom- 

 ised land of mountains, lakes, and large trout, and after 

 the usual vicissitudes of travel reached my destination 

 at Camp Kennebago about the middle of September. 



The forests were just developing their autumnal 

 hues, the air was fresh and bracing, and all nature 

 seemed to conspire to make one realize that there was 

 health in every breath inhaled, and beauty in every 

 phase of land and water. Having secured a first-rate 

 guide and boat, and partaken of a trout breakfast, 

 which was relished immensely, such as can only be 

 appreciated by one who has left the haunts of civil- 

 ization and gone into the wilderness for recupera- 

 tion, I considered my first duty was to pay my respects 

 to Mr. Allerton, who was in camp at Bugle Cove. 

 From this location Lake Mooselemeguntic lies spread 

 out before you, while Mt. Washington in the distance 

 rears its snowy peak, overtopping Jefferson, Monroe, 

 and the other giants of the White Hills of New Hamp- 

 shire. 



The crystal waters of .the lake tempt us to cast a fly, 

 and a suitable place having been secured, we proceed to 

 business. After making several casts in a manner 

 more or less scientific but without success, my former 

 unbelief came creeping over me, and, as my arm became 

 tired and almost refused to do its duty, a sense of 

 despondency overcame me, which I am sure sensibly 



