IO 



R EC RE A TION. 



SCENE ON ROUND LAKE. 



He soon reeled it in. Wading out in 

 the water as far as I could and watching 

 my opportunity I slipped the net under 

 it and brought it to shore. I need not 

 say that Snooks was a new man. His 

 first impulse was to pull out his flask and 



" Drink a sweet draught to moisten 

 his clay." 



His next was to give three cheers for 

 himself. Under the influence of the 

 draught, he waxed eloquent. His trout 

 was a five pounder, he had no doubt. 

 He dilated upon his own merits as a 

 fisherman. 



" Did you observe," said he, "the ar- 

 tistic manner in which I made that 

 throw ? It was worthy of Sir Isaac 

 Newton " 



"Isaak Walton, you mean," I said. 



" No, it was Sir Isaac Newton, the 

 prince of fishermen. Why," he con- 

 tinued, " my flies fell so gracefully on 

 the water that no fish could resist the 

 temptation. It was all done, sir," said 

 he, in a subdued and confidential tone, 

 " by a scientific twist of the wrist." 



After this oration he drew again from 

 his bottle and commenced his fishing 

 anew. I say it with pain, and it is 



painfully true, that it is galling to the- 

 vanity of an experienced angler to find 

 some greenhorn in fishing, like this 

 Snooks, by mere accidental circumstan- 

 ces " taking the cake." I must confess 

 that I looked upon his superb catch 

 with a jaundiced eye ; and for a 

 moment " a Cain-like feeling " took 

 possession of me. Here was the green- 

 est of greenhorns, who had never caught 

 a trout in his life, before, in possession 

 of a prize that I would have given five 

 dollars to have captured. I tried hard 

 to repress this feeling, and calmly re- 

 minded my friend that hooking a trout 

 was one thing and landing it was another. 

 Then I returned to my station. 



As there were some clouds in the sky, 

 the fish began to rise in earnest ; and I 

 was soon busy hauling them in. This 

 fact was soon discovered by Snooks 

 who changed his base of operations and 

 came plunging like a hippopotamus into 

 the water, too near to me to be agree- 

 able. Twice he succeeded in crossing 

 my line, and getting his flies entangled 

 with mine. Another time with " a 

 scientific twist " he managed to fasten 

 his line in the boughs of a tall spruce 

 tree in his rear. 



