THE TALE OF THE FISHES 



into the pearl of moonstone as the muscles of respira- 

 tion grow feebler and more irregular in their contraction 

 — you will experience an erethism of internal exalta- 

 tion that the capture of no other fish can excite. It 

 is this after-come of pleasure, this delight of contempla- 

 tion and speculation of which the scientific angler never 

 wearies, that lends a charm absolutely sui generis to the 

 pursuit of this Alpine charr — a fish of which it has 

 been said that one can not study its fascinating past as 

 an autochthon and familiarize himself with its impres- 

 sive life habits without conviction, as he becomes ac- 

 quainted with the wonderful evolution implied in its 

 survival, of the existence of a God. 



And this is the fish from which has diverged our 

 "gold-sprinkled living arrow of the white water, able 

 to zigzag up the cataract, able to loiter in the rapids, 

 whose dainty meat is the glancing butterfly" (Myron 

 Reed) . Can we wonder that he is the one perfect fish 

 in all the world? God be praised that he had the good 

 taste to abandon in the course of his evolution the 

 lacustrine depths where we never should have known 

 him, and give his life to the riffles that chatter through 

 the enameled champaign and to the stately flow of 



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