DURING THE PRESENT CENTURY. 281 



open-hearted by degrees, across a narrow field ; and then 

 it runs for the thickets and he that takes fish among 

 those alders will certainly earn them. Yet, for its length, 

 it is not a bad brook. The trout are not numerous, nor 

 large, nor especially fine ; but every one you catch renews 

 your surprise that you should catch any in such a ribbon 

 of a brook. Still farther north is another stream, some- 

 thing larger, and much better or worse, according to your 

 luck. It is easy of access, and quite unpretending. There 

 is a bit of a pond, some twenty feet in diameter, from 

 which it flows, and in that there are five or six half-pound 

 trout, who seem to have retired from active life and given 

 themselves to meditation in this liquid convent. They 

 were very tempting, but quite untemptable. Standing 

 afar off we selected an irresistible fly, and with long line 

 we sent it pat into the very place. It fell like a snow- 

 flake. No trout should have hesitated a moment. The 

 morsel was delicious. The nimblest of them should have 

 flashed through the water, broke the surface, and with a 

 graceful but decisive curve plunged downward, carrying 

 the insect with him. Then we should in our turn very 

 cheerfully lend him a hand, relieve him of his prey, and 

 admiring his beauty, but pitying his untimely fate, buried 

 him in the basket. But he wished no translation. We 

 cast our fly again and again; we drew it hither and 

 thither; we made it skip and wriggle ; we let it fall plash 

 like a surprised miller ; and our audience calmly beheld 

 our feats. 



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