ABOUT GRAYLING. 



Hide me, ye forests, in your coolest bo\v 'rs, 



Where flows the murmuring brook, inviting dreams, 



Where bordering hazel overhangs the streams. 



Gay. 



It so happens that no one of the local brotherhood, ex- 

 cept myself, ever fished for grayling. All have frequently 

 resolved to do so, but none of them have yet found leisure 

 to put their resolve into execution. As the next best thing, 

 they require of me an annual recital of my visits to gray- 

 ling waters. I am nothing loth, of course. On the contrary, 

 it is a great pleasure, only less enjoyable than the reality 

 itself. My "talk" this year was on this wise: 



"A few years ago the Au Sable was the most famous and 

 best stocked grayling river in Northern Michigan. When I 

 became acquainted with it, the fish were very abundant. 

 In an hour's casting at almost any point, a sufficient num- 

 ber could be taken to surfeit any reasonable angler for a 

 day. But, unfortunately, all anglers are not reasonable. 

 While making ready for a few days' sojourn on the river, 

 a party came in with a barrel of fish they had taken, and 

 which they proposed to carry home with them. They may 

 have had a thousand or more, and to secure that number of 

 sizable fish they had probably killed four times as many. 

 With the utmost care the whole lot would doubtless be nau- 

 seatlngly stale before tht y reached their destination. The 

 purpose of the party was well enough; for it is always 

 commendable to remember the loved ones at home; but I 

 never felt that I greatly complimented a friend by present- 

 ing him with a mess of stale fish ; and, except under very 

 favorable circumstances, all fish become stale, however 

 carefully packed, that can only be eaten a week, more or 

 less, after they are taken. Neither grayling, nor trout, 



