A SCHERZO 189 



The whole hotel seemed to be suffering from 

 ferox on the brain. Were an angler fortunate 

 enough to get a run from a fish which might, in 

 the remotest degree, be interpreted into the wild 

 rush of one of these monsters, and mentioned the 

 fact at dinner, he was looked upon with awe — con- 

 sidered quite a hero for several days, the event 

 having to be recounted many times before an in- 

 quiring and appreciative audience. This fact, I fear, 

 contributed to a certain circumstantial lie, palmed 

 off upon our brother anglers by our party, of which 

 now I feel I must make confession. 



It was at the end of a long day's fishing at the 

 head of the loch. We were rowing back to join 

 the carriage at the usual place, having kept it wait- 

 ing for fully an hour after the stipulated time — a 

 fact which would make us dreadfully late for dinner 

 — when Paddy had a brisk run from what appeared 

 to be a substantial fish. Unfortunately, however, 

 it immediately broke away again, leaving him 

 lamenting. As the hopeful Wullie rowed on dis- 

 consolately, he enlarged upon the size of this 

 fish, affirming positively that it was a heavy ferox, 

 until Paddy, aided and abetted by the Duke, 

 made out a good story which would do, he said, 



