SPORTING SKETCHES. 257 



There came up then a stiffish breeze, 

 One skillful cast and if you please, 

 The biggest salmon quickly rose, 

 Just as the fly danced near his nose, 

 A silver flash, a mighty tail, 

 A something clad in silver mail, 

 A whirring sound, a whizzing reel, 

 A clinching of the barbed steel, 

 A scattering of the shining spray, 

 The fish is on, he runs away, 

 Beware the tree, beware the tree, 

 He makes for it as you can see, 

 'Tis sunken where the depths are cool, 

 In darkest portion of the pool, 

 All safe, the reel begins to fly, 

 See, he has leaped full four feet high, 

 And now he makes for lower pool, 

 That salmon was not born a fool. 

 The rapids passed he stops to rest 

 For sorv.ly this poor fish was pressed, 

 In vain he turns and seeks to hide, 



The cruel gaff has pierced his side. 



* * * * * 



We took him gently by the tail 

 And placed him fair upon the scale, 

 Hurrah ! Denne's toil was well repaid, 

 Just thirty pounds his salmon weighed. 



STORY OF A DUCK HUNT. 



BY D. D. 



" Yes, I have been duck-shooting on the Richelieu, but on this 

 occasion I killed no ducks there. The only things my friend and 

 I brought home in our game bag were two plover and a goose, a 

 very wild one we once thought. You shall hear why, but you 

 must read the following account of our trip : 



" We started for one place and ended by going to several others. 



