DIAMOND POND. 



3^ 



as many fish as I could handle. When the sun went to 

 the westward, and the shadows of the trees began to creep 

 out over the water, we moved up to the head of the lake, 

 where the water was not two feet deep, and grass grew 

 from the bottom in abundance. Here at every cast we 

 had fine fish, often two at a time, and once three on one 

 leader. The general run of the trout which we took in 

 this lake would average something less than a pound. 

 Only one I think went above a pound and a half. 



Here was a case for the consideration of all theoretical 

 anglers. It was a clear, sunshiny, still day, with a cool 

 air from the northwest, the previous day having been hot. 

 There was an occasional ripple on the surface, but in the 

 main it was glassy. The best fly was the scarlet ibis, 

 proved by the fact that with three flies on each leader we 

 took three trout on the ibis to one on any other fly. 



We left the lake at half-past four, mindful of a long 

 drive over a wild mountain road, good in the track, but 

 narrow and bordered by rocks and ravines. I have for- 

 gotten the number of trout taken, but according to the 

 best of my recollection it was upward of fifty, all fine in 

 size and quality. Along the road home our Colebrook 

 friend chanted the praises of delicate tackle, and in the 

 evening the crowd in the hotel bar-room looked with won- 

 derment at the catch, and examined the rods and lines 

 and flies alternately, and listened to the marvelous ac- 

 counts of our companion, who clinched his stories with 

 the bold assertion that " while we were coasting down the 

 north side of the lake, those two gentlemen were throwing 

 their flies into the shadows on the south side and pulling 

 great trout clear across the pond." 



On Sunday we rested quietly, attending the morning 

 service at a little village church. 



