150 FLY-FISHING IN MAINE LAKES. 



eat them at your own table. I am sure I do, but 

 not with beefsteak : either in themselves, but not 

 united. 



In camp, slice them raw, cover with vinegar, and 

 add a little pepper and salt ; they are better than 

 all the fancy pickles that ever Crosse & Blackwell 

 stamped with their signature : and those, you know 

 are good. 



One day, a friend of ours from the city, an old 

 Umbagog fisherman, dropped in upon us, and right 

 glad were we to greet him. He had secured board 

 and lodging at one of the few villagers near our 

 camp. 



In the afternoon of the first day, a little girl from 

 the house called upon us, with the request, 



"Would you sell my mother some onions?" 



" No, my child, but we will give your mother a 

 few ; " and she thanked us with maiden simplicity, 

 and departed. 



As the shadows of evening fell, our friend came 

 to us to talk over the result of his first day's sport, 

 to say " Good-by, Umbagog," and to tell us how 

 his lines had fallen in pleasant places, what a cap- 

 ital house he was staying at, how well he fared. 



" Yes, boys ! the living is just splendid ; for sup- 

 per we had fried salmon, boiled salmon, fried pota- 

 toes, baked potatoes, good bread, and would you 



