56 THE BOATMAN'S STORY. 



glowing and graphic detail the history of his taking that 

 ten-pound trout. 



" Captain," said Hank Wood, who had been quietly whit- 

 ling out a new set of tent pins, addressing Smith, " you had 

 a good time of it with that trout, but it was nothing to an 

 adventer of mine with an old mossy-back, on this lake, five 

 year ago this summer." 



" How was that ?" inquired Smith ; and we all gathered 

 around to hear Hank Wood's story. 



" I don't know how it is," he began, as he seated himself 

 on the log in front of the tents, with one leg hanging down, 

 and the other drawn up with the heel of his boot caught 

 on a projection in the bark, his knee almost even with his 

 nose, and his fingers locked across his shin, " I don't know 

 exactly why, but the catching of that trout makes me think 

 of an adventer I had on this very lake, five year ago this 

 summer. It is curious how things will lay around in a man's 

 memory, every now and then startin' up and presentin' them- 

 selves, ready to be talked about reeled off as it were, and 

 then how quietly they coil themselves away, to lay there, 

 till some new sight, or sound, or idea, or feelin' stirs 'em 

 into life, and they come up again fresh and plain as ever. 

 Some people talk about forgotten things, but I don't believe 

 that any matter that gets fairly anchored in a man's mind, can 

 ever be forgotten, until age has broken the power of memory. 

 It is there, and will stay there, in spite of the ten thousand 

 other things that get piled in on top of it, and some day it 

 will come popping out like a cork, just as good and distinct 



