CHAPTER III 



" Hostess. Say what beast, thou knave them. 



Fahtaff. What beast ! Why, an otter. 



Hostess. An otter, Sir John ! why an otter ? 



Falstaff. Why, she's neither fish nor flesh. A man knows not 

 where to have her." 



BEFORE I enter upon the practical part of 

 Salmon Fishing, I will just say a few 

 words about my natural tendency to the 

 sport, to the end that it may be evident 

 that my maxims are not drawn from books, but 

 originate in my own experience. 



I declare, then, that I, Harry Otter, am by nature 

 a person of considerable aquatic propensities, having 

 been born under the sign of Aquarius, or Pisces it 

 matters not which. My delight in water, however, 

 has its limits, and extends only to external applica- 

 tions : the placid amusement of wading in a Salmon 

 river is very much to my taste quite captivating. 

 Showers, and even storms, if not of too long a con- 

 tinuance, are exceedingly refreshing to my person ; 

 but I must in candour admit that the decisive action 

 of a water-spout may not possibly be so gratifying 

 ne quid nimis. Macintosh's invention I consider 

 as wholly uncalled for, accounting it, as I do, an 

 unpardonable intrusion to place a solution of Indian- 

 rubber between the human bod}" and a refreshing 



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