COLEBROOK. 305 



way, and, as our road thence, lay for twelve miles parallel 

 to the rails, we relieved the horses by taking a convenient 

 train just then coming along, and waited for the Mount- 

 ain Ranger again at North Stratford station. Some fish- 

 ermen had been drawing a seine in the Connecticut just 

 as we arrived, and we saw the product of the haul. It 

 was a few bushels of fish that in my boy days we used to 

 call wind -fish, and some large suckers. Nothing else. 

 But I have taken large trout in the Connecticut at this 

 spot. I recall one evening when I was detained there, 

 and went over to the Vermont side of the river with a fly- 

 rod, and killed four noble fish at the mouth of a mill- 

 stream that pours into the Connecticut below the bridge. 

 A little of the old camp experience came into play here, 

 and Dupont and myself distinguished ourselves by get- 

 ting dinner ready. On the whole it was a success, and 

 the coffee was superb. The evening ride of thirteen miles 

 to Colebrook was fine. The roads in this part of the 

 country are excellent, and the scenery varied and always 

 beautiful. There are two Monadnocks in New England. 

 I don't know which is the original, but that one which 

 looks down on Colebrook is a fine old hill, and viewed 

 from the front of the inn on a Sunday evening, when one 

 bright star rests like a beacon on its summit, it is very 

 grand. 



We were to rest here over Saturday and Sunday, for, 

 as we were going into unknown regions, it was not safe 

 to arrive on Saturday night with ladies on the east side 

 of Dixville Notch, where it was quite uncertain whether 



we should find even a house. St. A and the Baron 



agreed to drive through the Notch on Saturday and ex- 

 plore, and Dupont and I began to inquire about the fish- 

 ing. We had a dozen streams and lakes placed at our 



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