Rod-making. 239 



admitted that the American species of brook-trout at- 

 tain a size not elsewhere found, or at any rate, only in 

 the Nepigon River of Lake Superior. 



In September, 1883, a friend fastened a trout of four 

 and a half pounds (weighed to the ounce, and not guessed 

 at) in a dangerous place, and not only held him without 

 giving an inch of line, but hung to him until his guide 

 took the boat into clear water and towed the fish after. 



The rod used on that occasion was a greenheart, with 

 split-bamboo tip, nine feet eight inches long, and united 

 by simple ferrules made by me during that year, and in 

 the manner described. The rod and its ferrules, as far 

 as the eye and constant subsequent use could determine, 

 were as good as new. 



It will be admitted, I think, that this was a pretty fair 

 test. But it by no means stands alone in my remem- 

 brance. I could instance dozens of other occasions where 

 these ferrules have withstood the severest and most sud- 

 den strains, and always without damage. 



Should I assert that if a man fell from a window he 

 would not reach the ground, but fly off into space, and 

 forever after gyrate in an orbit around the moon, you 

 would unhesitatingly assert that it was not true. You 

 have seen bodies fall before, and are familiar with the 

 course they will take. For the same reasons, I assert em- 

 phatically that it is not true that the simple ferrule, if 

 properly made (and this is a much easier matter than to 

 make a good dowelled ferrule), will either throw apart 

 or bend or split when subjected to any possible practical 

 strain. A ferrule of leaden material, and the fitting of 

 which is a botch, will give a like result, whether dow- 

 elled or simple in construction. 



