50 FISHING GOSSIP. 



lines, composed of fine strong thread, each mounted 

 with three hooks of small size ; these were respectively 

 baited with a strip of pork rind. The biscuit-dust 

 was thrown over, and allowed to float (a small portion 

 at a time) away with the stream. In less than ten 

 minutes the surface for a space of fifty yards was 

 covered with mackerel, all head to stream, darting 

 here and there at every fragment as it floated by, and 

 like Oliver " asking for more." JSTo Mosaic law in- 

 fluenced these fish of sunny seas. Two and three at 

 a time in they came, fluttering with stiff fins and 

 iiltrarnarine tints, as mackerel alone can, until from 

 sheer weariness I cried " Hold, enough," and indeed 

 we could not well have held many more. I lighted 

 my old black pipe, the cherished (and still spared) 

 comrade of many a ramble and scramble by flood and 

 through forest, and with the gurgling water rushing 

 under the canoe, and the lip-lap of the current making 

 dreamy music as it fleeted by our smooth sides, 

 yielded myself to the guidance of my sable oarsman, 

 until the hoarse challenge, " What boat is that ?" and 

 the dark loom of my ocean home, called me abruptly 

 back from dreamland to waking realities. 



W. B. L. 



