CHAPTER XXI. 



TROLLING IN JUNE. 



"Trolling," anywhere over good water, has its merits, 

 but "trolling" over Lake Pleasant and Round Lake, of a 

 sultry, pulseless summer's day, after the season has gone 

 by, has its romance ; and it is concerning this striking 

 feature thereof, that I propose now to write. 



" Patience is a virture of the serene gods," say the meek 

 brothers of the angle ; but I say their godships never sub- 

 jected that sublimest attribute to the test of trolling one 

 of the last days of June anywhere in Hamilton county ; 

 neither do I believe Old Nick ever thought of that merciful 

 dispensation in favor of Job, or we should have heard a 



different story. It passeth all comprehension — not " 



still imagination in bottomless conceit — " could ! But 



I anticipate! 



I was extremely ambitious of salmon trout — or "lakers," 

 as they call them; and must confess that my inner visuals 

 were so preoccupied by the glistening image of a twenty- 

 pounder dancing in the air before them, while preparing 

 to come here, that it never once occurred to me to inquire 

 whether I should be in season or out of season for them. 

 As for my friend Piscator, his contented fancy had never 

 soared above a brook-trout of three pounds ; and when he 

 heard the stories of these huge fellows, his large eyes would 

 grow rounder, and lambent with a liquid inspiration at the 

 thought. ^ 



With what an eager smile, betwixt wonder and awe, he 

 would listen, while he toiled at his delicate tackle, renewing 

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