LOVE AND ANGLING. 231 



of Fairy Cove. Fairy Cove is a spot in which 

 the brook broadens into a pure lakelet. This 

 lakelet is surrounded by precipitous cliffs and 

 woods and hills. The great cliff on the north 

 side has its face seamed and scored by the 

 trickling of rains, and it cannot be less than 

 twenty feet in height. The hill is not quite so 

 imposing, but the wood ascending from the 

 water to an eminence of ten yards, at the very 

 least, is impressive. The nearest approach to 

 an eagle here is the pacific thrush or the 

 robin, but an otter dwells in a dark cave be- 

 neath an ash tree, so that we are equipped with 

 a wild beast. Pixies have been reported to 

 have danced on the lakelet by the light of the 

 stars, frisking it in and out amongst the chalice 

 cups of the lilies, or riding in vast numbers on 

 the back of their associate, the otter, who 

 would, no doubt, carry them as the elephant 

 does the cargo of children in the Zoological 

 Gardens. You can creep out on a rock and 

 gaze into the face of the water, until another 

 face is revealed staring out of the cool depths. 

 Kate and I had tried the experiment frequently, 

 and have noted the curious inclination of the 



