A Day’s Trout Fishing. 
I'KOAJ. the station where 1 left the train it was 
an eignt mile walk to the brook by the way of 
ihe road, but my familiarity wiin certain cross 
cuts through the woods or pasture lessened this 
distance fully one and a hall miles. Still, loaded 
down with creel and boots, it was a two hours’ 
walk. 
Several fishing companions have asked me why 
1 did not hire some farmer to drive me over 
to the stream. Why should 1 ? By walking 1 
had ample time to indulge in expectation, winch 
IS a no less pleasurable parr of the going fisning 
than the taking of fish. Besides, no matter how 
many times one may go over the same country 
roads and fields, they have an ever new appear¬ 
ance, especially m the spring and early summer. 
it may be selfish, this tramping alone, but gen¬ 
erally two or more prohibit the train of thoughts 
inspired by the nature folks through whose 
silent communion become shortened the many 
miles. 1 ake for instance this day; had 1 not 
been alone, 1 should have been denied the op¬ 
portunity of witnessing the following pretty 
sight, as an animated conversation would have 
given ample warning to the quick, listening 
little ears. ^ 
1 was half way to the brook, and walking 
in the soft, deep dust of a country road just 
under a sideling hill, debating with myself as 
to whether I should fish the little brook in the 
hollow ahead, when, by apparent intuition, I 
seemed to know or feel something almost at 
my feet. I stopped and looked down into the 
dusty grass by the roadside, and there, nestled 
and cuddled down in it at distances varying 
from two to several feet, lay five or six tiny 
baby woodchucks, all looking up at me with 
eyes that seemed in the tops of their heads. 
Perfectly still they lay with never an apparent 
stir of breathing, until I said, "Hello chuckles, 
what are you doing here?” 
My stopping and talking evidently caused the 
mother woodchuck to commence a series of 
audible instructions, for immediately following 
a “whiddling” signal from the nearby stone wall, 
the furthest little chuckle began a stealthy, silent 
movement to steal away when, having gained 
sufficient distance and apparently under orders 
from the old mother that 1 now caught a 
glimpse of in the wall, he quickened his pace 
and soon clumsily whisked through a hole and 
out of sight. The others, all but one at my 
very feet, seeing or being warned in some way 
by the nervous old lady in the fence, that the 
others had safely eluded the enemy, followed 
the stealthy retreat to the running line for the 
dash to safety in the wall. 
There I stood and watched them dissolve 
away, until one lone little chuckle was all that 
was left. To him I talked, advising him to 
keep a greater distance between him and men 
less inclined to admire his destructive race. He 
lay squatted flat and eyed me with his blink¬ 
ing, beady sharp eyes, until I extended the rod 
in its case of cloth, to touch the little bunch of 
fluffy buff softness. This was too much. His 
ngnting blood Hashed tortn m his vicious leaps 
to meet and destroy the tiling that dared to 
injure him. Pie grabbed the rod with a savage 
little yank, then—a victor—dasned off to his 
stone tortress, where 1 dare say they all talked 
about the strategic way the family had outwitted 
their great enemy, wdiile the little fighter was 
made a special hero, for had he not tought his 
adversary to his successful escape? If for any 
reason a reader may not incline to believe this 
yarn, why, 1 can simply otter proof in the man¬ 
ner of a Prench-Canadian who to his doubting 
Thomases said, “Yas seh, ef yo ant uTeve it. 
Ah kail show yo de hole in de case me.” 
Aside from the adventure with the woodchuck 
family 1 had been agreeably entertained by signt 
and sound of the birds. By the wayside, in the 
fields and in the fence corners my eyes had 
feasted upon the flaring yellow of dandelions, 
or the delicately tinted violets. Many of the 
trees had not yet fully unrolled their pale green 
leaves, while upon others in great profusion ap¬ 
peared white, salmon-pink and red blossoms of 
the peach, cherry and apple, varying from the 
pink-tinted buds to the fully expanded flowers 
or over-ripe blossoms that decorated the ground 
beneath the trees with a covering of petals that 
looked not unlike snow. 
What a difference from now and the ten days 
agone since I last passed that way, and still 
this magical change would be continued without 
any lessening of newly added attractions. 
As I gained the top of the last hill the sound 
of the murmuring waters reached my ear. It 
was an active stimulant, for my feet paced the 
quicker, while, as I walked, 1 withdrew my rod 
from its case and began to put it together. 1 
must admit that this procedure did not gain 
me time, for in my efforts to put the joints to¬ 
gether my steps became less rapid, but there is 
still much of my former boyish impatience about 
me and I doubt not that herein lies much of 
my enthusiasm. 
At the little stream I stopped to scan the 
hurrying waters as though I would read in them 
my luck for this day. Then the little reel I had 
used for years was taken from my pocket, placed 
upon the reel-seat, its line run through the guides 
and attached a suitable hook adorned with a 
new and plump barnyard hackle. Oh, I heard 
that sigh of criticism, “a worm fisherman.” But 
let me tell you who are so expert with the feath¬ 
ered hooks that unless you were once a worm 
fisherman you might not even tempt the trout 
were you to impale the wiggler,- for like every¬ 
thing else there is a certain knack about it. I 
have seen anglers fish all day with worms and 
not get a bite from even a dace, while the ang¬ 
ler who knows how filled his creel. You have 
seen like conditions surely with those who tempt 
with the fly. 
To the pool just up stream a little way, where 
the swift current has cut a deep hole beyond 
the little point, I went and carefully let my 
wiggling hook float down to the swirling dark 
spot. How my fancy took me back to this same 
place where just one year before 1 had taken, 
one after the other, seventeen trout measuring 
8 to inches eacn, and thought then as 1 diu 
now, would 1 ever equal such a teat again? UU, 
the joys ot expectation! What a creelful i 
already saw in this ideal flood. A strike, then 
a run for the o'erhangmg bank. Ah ha, the 
record-breaker was about to begin, and shortly 
1 had killed a pretty trout that proved my on*, 
and only strike in this likely pool, though I re¬ 
peatedly tried worms and flies alike, it is this 
uncertainty in angling that makes so thrilling 
a sport of fishing. Here only last year I had 
filled my creel and now 1 had only one solitary 
medium sized trout. 
Down the stream I waded, or from the banks 
threw into the likely holes and rifts with occas¬ 
ional success, the fish being just far enough 
apart in their taking to add zest to my expectant 
enthusiasm. Finally I came to a long, shallow 
marshy pool, upon the surface of which floated 
an occasional lilypad, while moored in the muddy 
shallows of the further shore, spread out a sec¬ 
tion of board fence floated down by some spring 
freshet. 
For the past hour or two a shower had been 
gathering and now the rain descended in gentle, 
trickling drops upon the surface of the pool and 
shortly increased to a roaring splashing on leaves 
and water. I kept on fishing, for like most trout 
anglers I am an enthusiast. I stood waist deep 
in a clump of wild rose bifthes in the boggy 
marsh at the edge of the widened stream and 
put on a leader with two flies, a brown hackle 
and a red ibis. The rain cut up the surface of 
the pool and aided in my non-discovery by the 
trout, which almost immediately responded to 
my short casts with flies. While my position 
would not admit of ready fly-casting, yet aided 
by the fairly strong wind that blew, I could 
lay my flies over every spot in this widened 
portion of the brook. Gently I dropped the 
hackle close up to the raft-like fence and started 
to retrieve it, when with a sudden attack that 
really startled me, a fairly big trout seized upon 
it and commenced his gyrations about the pool. 
Soon after he was killed and placed in the creel, 
while I let the feathers blow across to the fur¬ 
ther end of the pool to repeat the act. Now 
the fun became fast and furious, for trout rose 
several at a time, but strange to say I did not 
succeed in hooking two at once, although several 
times while a hooked fish caused the loose fly 
to flop and skip about in the most tantalizing 
way, other trout rushed or followed it up until 
the captured one was taken from the water. 
When I saw evidence of several trout in this 
pool from the way that they broke after my 
flies, I commenced to keep track of the number 
actually struck and captured, and when they 
ceased to pay further attention to fly or worm 
I unslung my creel and found that I had kept 
twenty-five nice trout, and as I had thrown back 
six varying from six to seven inches in length, 
this made a total of thirty-one trout taken from 
this one pool while standing in one spot. 
From where I had struck into the brook to 
