88 PLEASURES OF ANGLING. 



the river or when the storm howled all around me 

 always and in all places it was true to its office. 

 We sometimes have such friends, and because 

 some such have been brought to mind by this tiny 

 memento of forest life, I will place it on the re- 

 tired list, lest it should disappoint me should I 

 again test it, and so the pleasant memories I have 

 of it be dimmed by the recollection of a single 

 failure. Even friendship may get weary, and he 

 is wise who never overtasks it. 



Here is another memento a Limerick hook, 

 which proved a faithful friend in all waters for 

 many years. I took my first trout with it in 1853, 

 from a mill-pond not far from Coburg in Canada. 

 The water was as transparent as the atmosphere. 

 I had whipped every inch of it in vain. ~Not a 

 fish would rise to any fly I could muster. In des- 

 pair I had resort to bait, and dropping my line 

 into deep water within a few feet of a sunken 

 brush-heap, I was startled on seeing coming out 

 from beneath it, with a sedate and complacent 

 gravity, a massive and graceful trout, evidently 

 quite intent upon the tempting lure which I had 

 placed before him. But he moved very slowly, as 

 if confident that what his eye was fixed upon could 

 not escape him; and as if, like an experienced 

 epicure, he was determined to enjoy in anticipa- 

 tion the feast which he was sure of, he smacked 



