REARING THE YOUNG FRY. 159 



remain in the hatching troughs, the appearance of 

 things is very bright. Indeed, there is no more hope- 

 ful time in the trout breeder's year than that when the 

 young fish just get to feeding well. The dangers and 

 hardships of the long winter's hatching are over. He 

 has a fine lot of healthy, thriving trout. They feed 

 well, they look well, and do not show a sign of a pos- 

 sibility of their dying. Everything goes on swim- 

 mingly, and unless he is more than human, or less, he 

 will invariably draw the nattering picture to himself 

 of what these thousands of tiny things will be three 

 summers hence, each weighing a half-pound apiece or 

 more. It is certainly an elating prospect. 



But behold, at the end of about three weeks, an ap- 

 palling change comes over this happy vision. It comes 

 on very unobtrusively in the beginning, and the first 

 sign of it which you discover is merely the gathering 

 of two or three fish in a corner where the water is 

 stiller than the rest. On examination, you observe 

 nothing unusual about them, except that, to use an 

 expressive Dutch-Americanism, they appear " logy,"* 

 avoid the running water, and eat languidly, or per- 

 haps do not eat at all. This seems a very trifling 

 circumstance ; but to an experienced eye it is start- 

 lingly significant, for it is sure to be the forerunner 

 of wholesale disaster. The next day the number of 

 disaffected ones will be increased to a dozen, perhaps, 

 and very likely some of them will be heading down 

 stream. This number will steadily increase. Soon 

 they will begin to drop down dead, by ones and twos 

 * From the Dutch log, dull, stupid. 



