A TRAGEDY OF THE MERE. 75 



the live dace promptly disassociated itself 

 from the proceeding, leaving the hooks and 

 float to follow its flight at their leisure. These 

 misfortunes elicited from my companion, not 

 sympathy, but the remark, of cold comfort, " I 

 never knew you to fish so badly." 



I retaliated by securing a fish, and 

 then another, before his dace attracted the 

 attention of an inquisitive pike. A strike, and 

 lo ! his trace, also of thin wire, had parted in 

 twain. The experience of fine tackle sufficed, 

 and, like myself, he fell back upon gimp. I 

 was still using a snap mounted on some of 

 the aforesaid wire, and paid for my temerity 

 by leaving the hooks, and two inches of it, in 

 the next fish, while my companion shortly after- 

 wards suffered defeat by allowing a slack line 

 after the strike. 



It was a beginning that called for much 

 stoicism and the exercise of a fine Mark 

 Tapley spirit. A fish each somewhat lightened 

 our gloom, but depression gripped us again 

 when bared hooks and extravagant loss of 



