FLY FISHING IN THE TO SEMITE. 159 



while he pretended to read his office, he was engaged 

 in dissecting a coleoptera or something. 



The Doctor, who was Madge's unworthy brother, 

 had come with the avowed intention of sketching. All 

 the long way from San Francisco he had been at work 

 with brushes and blotting paper. Often the "prairie 

 schooner," in which the party travelled, had "lain to" 

 while the Doctor washed in patches of blue and white 

 to represent cloud-effects, or a jagged gray band against 

 streaks of orange, portraying sunrise in the Sierras. 



The last member of the party without professional 

 distinction, and familiarly called "Jack," had also a 

 penchant, though many years had passed since it had 

 been gratified. "When they had left the San Joaquin 

 plain and its sluggish rivers oozing their way through 

 mud and reeds, and had climbed into the mountain, a 

 halt was made in a deep canon. Here was a stream in- 

 deed. How blithely it danced along, eager to find the 

 Golden Gate and the Pacific ! How it sang to Jack of 

 fellow streams near the other ocean ! How it whispered 

 of trout streams ahead ! Presently a long-cherished fly 

 book was produced and Jack was poring over it. His 

 Reverence, attracted by the little volume, looked over 

 Jack's shoulder. He was entranced. A volume of ec- 

 clesiastical Latin would not have interested him half 

 so much. He began to criticise and expound. Some 

 were perfect. Some were caricatures of diptera. The 

 other members of the party drew around. " Pooh ! " 

 said the Doctor, " I hope you don't expect to catch any 



