102 DAYS AND NIGHTS OF SALMON FISHING. 



CHAP. IV. 



" I in these flowery meads would be ; 

 These crystal streams shall solace me." 



Much has been said by various humane persons about 

 the cruelty of fishing ; but setting aside that, according 

 to the authority of the eminent author of Salmonia, 

 and of Dr. Gillespie also, who, by-the-by, is professor 

 of humanity at St. Andrews, fish seldom feel any pain 

 from the hook. Let us see how the case stands. I 

 take a little wool and feather, and, tying it in a parti- 

 cular manner upon a hook, make an imitation of a fly ; 

 then I throw it across the river, and let it sweep round 

 the stream with a lively motion. This I have an 

 undoubted right to do, for the river belongs to me or 

 my friend ; but mark what follows. Up starts a 

 monster fish with his murderous jaws, and makes a 

 dash at my little Andromeda. Thus he is the ag- 

 gressor, not I ; his intention is evidently to commit 

 murder. He is caught in the act of putting that 

 intention into execution. Having wantonly intruded 

 himself on my hook, which I contend he had no right 

 to do, he darts about in various directions, evidently 

 surprised to find that the fly, which he hoped to make 

 an easy conquest of, is much stronger than himself. 

 I naturally attempt to regain this fly, unjustly with- 

 held from me. The fish gets tired and weak in his 

 lawless endeavours to deprive me of it. I take 

 advantage of his weakness, I own, and drag him, 

 somewhat loth, to the shore, where one rap at the' 



