FOUR POUNDS. 163 



stream, but in vain. Then I came back to the bait; but 

 now I changed it. With a small fly-hook and a bit of 

 worm I took a minnow, and used him to entrap his en- 

 emy the trout. Nor without success. I struck a two- 

 pound trout, and landed him after a three-minute strug- 

 gle. Another, not so large, and another, and yet a 

 fourth. For each I had to catch a minnow, and it took 

 time. I was fishing for a fifth minnow when I heard the 

 whistle and roar of an express train a mile or so away. 

 I looked up and forgot my hook for a moment, so that it 

 went to the bottom. My eye was directed down the rail- 

 road, and I saw the engine, a black spot on the track, 

 swelling as it approached, when a sharp pull called my 

 attention to the business in hand. He had gotten some 

 yards of line already, and was going down stream with 

 a rush. I felt him, and he pulled with a strong pull. 

 " Four pounds at least," was my first idea, and down I 

 followed him. That railroad bridge was a puzzle to me. 

 The stream narrowed to go under it, and I had guessed 

 its depth to be not less than four feet, with mud bottom. 

 If the fish got through it, he had the advantage of me. 

 So I made a dead stand, and stopped him. I tried the 

 reel, but I could not budge him toward me. So I reeled 

 in, while I approached him, until I had about three fath- 

 oms out. Just then the train was approaching, and I 

 saw three or four heads out of the windows watching my 

 movements. As they dashed by at fifty miles an hour, I 

 was trying to lift the fish to the surface and ascertain 

 what he was. For though not thirty seconds had passed 

 since he took the hook, I knew by this time he was no 

 trout. Nor was he. I did not land him with that light 

 rod for full ten minutes. 



If the excited gentleman who was looking out of the 



