304 SALMON AND TROUT. 
some ten minutes it struck me as odd that I had not seen any 
of the tubs carried past the window. Jumping up and calling 
to the rest to follow me I ran to the cart—not a minute too 
soon. Half the fish—and all the large ones—had already 
sickened and were gasping side up. We hurried them in hot 
haste down to the water, and the fresh stream just saved thei 
lives, one fish only proving past recovery. Five minutes more 
of still water, and the whole cargo would have been lost ; as it 
was, the introduction of those trout restored the breed which 
had become almost extinct in that fine reach of the river. 
They were turned in, if I remember, about the end of 
August, after a season during which I could only hear of three 
trout killed by fair angling from Marlow Weir to Spade Oak. 
In the fourth season after, I took some forty myself, though 
hardly visiting the river twice a week. 
[have told this story at some length to illustrate the necessity 
of keeping the water aérated by motion when stock trout are 
being transported ; but it may point another moral, viz. that it is 
desirable to use sizeable fish for restocking exhausted streams. 
Let me add here, that I am by no means fanciful about 
stocking water, whether pool or stream, with what is calleda 
‘fine breed’ of trout. Such a breed results from centuries, 
perhaps, of superior feeding, and trout of such a race, if removed 
to waters where the dietary is less generous, will be apt to 
‘dwindle, peak and pine,’ or at best will lose their distinctive 
superiority. On the other hand, fish taken from a hungry 
water and turned into one where the bill of fare is more liberal 
cannot fail to thrive. I have seen many notable instances 
where tiny brook fish, which at home would never have exceeded 
four or five ounces in weight, have been removed into a large 
sheet of deep water, and have there become large and good— 
worthy of an angler’s respect and affection. I will mention two 
examples. On a high moorland beside Lartington Hall, on the 
borders of county Durham, runs a small burn—the same which, 
after gathering its dark peat-stained waters, plunges down 
romantic Deepdale to join the Tees above Barnard Castle; 
