296 Tue Aroostook Woops. 

peep, peep, peeped! all through the rainy night, and gone to 
sleep at last upon a rock, right in face of the enemy. This 
being most too big a bite to swallow easily, and very choice 
food beside, another ducky swims him down, grabs a leg of 
the frog, and although hard pressed by another still, these two 
succeed, after much pulling and shaking, flapping of wings 
and mumbling duck growls, to divide poor froggy, each 
swallowing quickly, the rightful owner for once securing the 
larger share. 
Old mother quacker, since her grown up family haye all 
turned about for something of more interest, and are paying 
no attention whatever to her tiresome prattle, at last mistrusts 
they think her an old chestnut. But like many an old duck 
before her time, she cannot stop when wound up early in the 
morning, and gabbles off another glib story, laughs at it herself 
only, loud and coarsely, then raising herself up as high as 
possible, treads water with her big feet, and flaps her wings 
directly at the Commodore, intending to fly the next instant. 
But, alas! for madame ducky, it was her very last flap and 
quack ; the Commodore had only been waiting for a little more 
daylight. 
After breakfast it looks as if it might rain again; then in 
a short time it lightens up as if to clear away. It is one of 
those half-and-half mornings, when you declare it isn’t going 
to rain, at the same time you don’t wish to lay a heavy wager 
against it, but you really do want to go fishing; and as it 
soon looks more favorable, the Commodore accepts an invite 
from the crew, when we turn over the canoe and place it 
upon the water. Taking our dinners and the troll line, fly 
rod and landing net, we paddle out from shore and find just 
a little bit of a breeze lightly sweeping about to all points of 
