Artful Antagonists 



The creel of a well remembered day had 

 been a superb one. Whether pride should 

 have filled the Angler's soul or shame o'er- 

 come him is a question far better perhaps to 

 place the simple facts before you and leave 

 this matter for your decision. 



An old friend of his, Ned by name, ob- 

 tained possession of a comfortable little cabin 

 near the Wilson Lakes in Maine. He had 

 kindly granted its use to the Angler when- 

 ever he might care to try the fishing in this 

 section of the country. 



Late in the month of June all arrangements 

 were completed. Two good, true sportsmen 

 and himself packed their kits and started for 

 camp. 



The guides were waiting at the station, and 

 as the day was yet young it was decided to 

 fish a little and stop at some convenient 

 place on the way to camp for luncheon. 



The Angler's particular guardian was one 

 Herman, by name, a native of a nearby town. 

 He was long-drawn-out, bow-legged and glo- 

 rified with an abundance of hair of a brick- 



75 



