"LITTLE RIVERS." 119 



country. I find little in it that I can steal, unless I steal 

 the whole ; but here is a quotable bit : 



"Send your fly in under those cedar branches where 

 the water swirls around by the old log. Now draw it 

 towards the foam ; there is a sudden gleam of dull 

 gold in the white water. You strike too soon. Your 

 line comes back to you. In a current like this a fish 

 will almost always hook himself. Try it again. This 

 time he takes the fly fairly, and you have him. It is 

 a good fish, and he makes the slender rod bend to the 

 strain. He sulks for a moment, as if uncertain what 

 to do, and then with a rush darts into the swiftest part 

 of the current. You can never stop him there. Let 

 him go. Keep just enough pressure on him to hold 

 the hook firm, and follow his lordship down the stream 

 as if he were a salmon ; he slides over a little fall, 

 glancing through the foam, and swings around in the 

 next pool. Here you can manage him more easily ; 

 and after a few minutes' brilliant play, a few mad 

 dashes for the current, he comes to the net, and your 

 skilful guide lands him with a quick steady sweep of 

 the arm. The scales credit him with an even pound, 

 and a better fish than this you will hardly take here in 

 midsummer. " 



A pretty description of an every-day occurrence. 

 Our southern anglers will smile at so much fuss over 

 a I Ib. trout. He might have been 3 Ib. at least to 

 justify so much type and paper. Of course size depends 

 on locality, a I Ib. trout in a mountain stream is com- 

 paratively as good as a three-pounder in the Test. 

 By the way, one wonders what kind of hornets those 

 may be which he met with on the Ampersand. 



