FOURTH DAY. Ill 



anglers of my acquaintance. He lies under 

 the branches of that great elm tree, and 

 the difficulty is to approach without his 

 seeing you. Keep back awhile and I '11 

 try him. Ha ! I saw him rise at a fly 

 which was passing over him. Now, line 

 and rod be obedient, and he 's mine. There ! 

 I told you so ; he has taken the lure and 

 gone down to his haunt. Steady, Simon, 

 don't come too near. I feel him, and see, 

 he runs up stream ; but I '11 turn him, and 

 bring him down again. 



J. What a plunge ! Shade of Cotton, 

 I hope your tackle is strong, or you '11 lose 

 him ! Another summerset ! He '11 get off, 

 surely ! 



S. Never fear. I have him clear of 

 the weeds, and am now pretty sure of my 

 prize: yet he still fights nobly and con- 

 tends for life and liberty with the vigour 

 of his tribe. Don't approach yet, you will 

 only add to his consternation, and make 



