GEORGIANA FALLS. 225 



don play for the time. It is sometimes a good rule for 

 anglers, but for the reason that such occurrences, the 

 successive breakings of a rod, or repeated snarls in 

 one's line, or the recurring loss of heavy fish after hook- 

 ing them, may almost always be charged to the condition 

 of body or mind in which the angler is fishing. It is 

 nine times out of ten his fault and not his misfortune. 

 Don't abuse your rod when the blame belongs to your- 

 self. 



A plenty of silk thread, waxed with shoemaker's wax. 

 is a part of the necessary outfit for a day's fishing. It 

 should be in the pocket of every fly-book, and in every 

 pocket of every suit of fishing clothes. It can't be too 

 abundant. With a good knife and plenty of thread one 

 can build a rod in the woods or repair any break. But I 

 took the hint that my right arm must be out of order, and 

 having spliced the butt I made no more attempts at cast- 

 ing under the mill-dam. 



Half a mile below, however, we crossed the Georgiana 

 brook just above its junction with the Pemigewasset. 

 This brook rises far back in the mountains in an elevated 

 basin, where lie Bog Pond and Bog Eddy, famous for large 

 trout and plenty, but of poor flavor. The Georgiana Falls 

 were visited in old times by scenery hunters, reached 

 only by a long walk up the mountain from the Flume 

 House. They well repaid much toil. Of late years the 

 path has been abandoned, and it is now many years since 

 the falls have sunk into almost oblivion. But they plunge 

 clown the rocky wall as yellow in their foam as ever, for 

 this water is of a deep dark color, and from such water 

 trout seldom come without the woody flavor. 



I lingered but a few moments near the bridge, and took 

 out a half-dozen small fish, all nearly black. Ten rods 



P 



