102 SPRING-TIDE. 



the gaff, but oh ! misfortune dire, at the 

 first blow he missed his prey, severed the 

 foot-line, and the freed fish no Jonger feel- 

 ing the tension, made a dash with its tail 

 and rushed up the stream ! With a yell 

 of rage and despair, the captor threw away 

 his gaff and fell on his face, exclaiming, 

 " Eh, what a fool ! what a fool I am ! Eh ! 

 was ever such a misfortune ! I was a born 

 fool surely to lose him ! Eh, what a fool 

 I am ! " " It "s pretty clear you are," 

 thought my friend, who, though a bit of an 

 angler, is anything but an enthusiast; then 

 addressing the unfortunate, " Why, sir, you 

 surely are not making all this insane fuss 

 for the loss of a fish : one would think by 

 the vehemence of your lamentation you were 

 in alarm for your soul" The angler, still 

 grovelling on the ground, roused a little by 

 this remonstrance, his mind entirely en- 

 grossed with the subject, heard but the last 

 word. " Heh ! what, sir ! " he exclaimed 



