144 riSH CULTUEE. 



and a hungry trout below. Now, the cast of flies 

 fells like thistledown, and — " by the bones of the tin-' 

 canonized St. Isaac, what a head and shoulders ! " 

 —with a dash cxiriously unlike the way he would 

 seize the natural fly, he has it, and turns to descend 

 with his dangerous prize. " What, ho ! bully-rook — 

 not so fast, fair sir ! " and with a slight upward turn 

 of the wrist, the fine steel wire is fixed like the tooth 

 of the weasel in the eagle's leg, and it shall go hard, 

 but like it, too, it shall bring its would-be captor 

 to land. " Hoots toots, what a pother ! full twenty 

 yards of line, as I'm a living fisherman and a sinner." 

 That is all too far away for a near acquaintance, my 

 dainty salmo fario ; so, with your leave, my scaly 

 friend, we will gently persuade you to yield us back 

 that twenty yards of silken web you have so lustily 

 borrowed of us. So he feels the rankling steel, and 

 bounds into the air Kke an acrobat, to see if haply 

 he can shake it out. By this hand ! three pounds if 

 he's an ounce. "Well jumped, trouty; well played, 

 piscator. That dip of the rod-point saved your tackle 

 a merveille. There's no fool at one end of the line, 

 whatever there may be at the other. But the 

 struggle is over at last, and poor trouty consigned to 

 the gradually-filling creel, the prize of the evening. 

 " Lonely," did I say ? Nay, for in yonder bay 



