The Autocrat of the Eddy. 4 1 



Deeply sunken beneath the hemlock's 

 gnarled root is a shelving drift boulder of 

 gneiss, and under the shelf a big trout has 

 lived for many seasons. His colors are 

 dark, his protruding under-jaw is hooked, 

 his eye is fierce, and his manner is aggres- 

 sive. No other living thing of his size or 

 less would dare claim a share of the eddy. 

 The beautiful despot has caught every 

 baby trout that ventured so far up or 

 down stream this year, and rumor has it 

 that he swallowed one of his best children 

 at a single gulp. The timid little dace 

 hide behind the stones in shallow water 

 and make eyes at him, but one by one he 

 takes them to his bosom and shows them 

 the folly of their ways. When a miller 

 balances on the tip of a waving fern frond 

 near the brink, the old trout throws water 

 at it with his tail and then whirls it under, 

 leaving a single white wing to float off 

 down stream and make the other trouts 

 mouths water. That shows his disposi- 

 tion. 



The hemlock has stood on the bank for 

 a couple of centuries and the trout has 



