Teaching Girl to Catch Trout. 
Spare the rod and spoil the child,” said the 
wise man—an epigram which has found a per¬ 
manent place in the vernacular of life. I 
agree with Solomon. Spare the rod—a fly rod— 
and spoil the child—boy or girl. The time was 
when it was considered unmaidenly and im¬ 
modest for a girl or woman to indulge in the 
sports of brother or husband; but happily that 
day is past or is passing. A judicious tomboy to¬ 
day is an object of admiration. Girls and 
women no longer fear sunburn and freckles so 
much as they fear a weak body and a feeble 
mind. The “weaker vessel” has demonstrated 
related stones of camping trips and piscatorial 
battles. Such stories never failed to charm 
even when “The Three Tiny Pigs” and “Cin- 
erella and the Glass Slipper” proved unattrac¬ 
tive. Many a trout-an old shoe—did she reel 
across the floor and successfully bring to net 
under my tutorage. 
That summer we took her camping in the face 
of the doctor’s advice and in spite of friends’ 
lugubrious prognostications; and she returned 
nut-brown and buxom. She has been camping 
every year since then. When five years old she 
caught a trout all by herself. Now, eleven 
years since . the stork deposited his precious 
burden, she is studying the art of trout fishing, 
To her delight Girl was the first into the 
stream. What if I did purposely fumble when 
threading my line through guides, and drop my 
reel with unaccountable ’ awkwardness; I know 
what it means to catch the first fish. A shriek of 
delight informed me that the first trout had met 
its Waterloo, and that congratulations were in 
order.. Girl refused to gloat over me, though 
trembling hands and dancing eyes told of un¬ 
speakable joy. “Are you not ashamed,” said I, 
to beat your old father who caught trout long 
before you were born ?” 
sbe faltered, “I—I—couldn’t help it; 
the ,fish got on and I just had to throw him 
out,” then, as a bright thought came to her, 
GIRL WAS THE FIRST ONE TO TRY 
FOR A TROUT. 
EXAMINING A TROUT TO ASCERTAIN WHAT IT HAD BEEN FEEDING 0: 
T abiIit y to shoot as straight and cast a fly 
th equal precision with the “lords of creation.” 
ie “new woman”—pardon the hackneyed term 
is clear-eyed, firm-muscled and self-reliant, 
e t0 C0 P e with whatever circumstances may 
■■'se; moreover, she has not lost one whit of 
r mod esty and true womanliness. The out- 
; 0r woman ha s come to stay. Figuratively we 
n our arms to receive her. 
T-leven years ago when the stork paused at 
door of our humble home long enough to 
losit a girl baby, we, the parents of that red 
■1 complaining atom of humanity, knew that 
was fore-ordained that she should be a 
^ er ' ^ ad there not been fishermen on both 
■ly h ° USe f ° r S eneration s, Celt and 
/ was denied outdoor pleasures when 
said the mother, “because my parents 
SI ered such things immodest; but we will 
no such mistake with our child.” A sen- 
'ent in which I heartily concurred. There 
; to be no sparing of the rod in the child’s 
' 1 . t!meS between the ages of one and 
c that dread monster, spinal meningitis crept 
( lm , ° Ur door a »d laid its fell hands’ upon 
• hut e ach time she came back to us in 
ol^doctors’ opinions and our lack of faith. 
J , c ast uttack, before she was able to get 
the house, she and I used to fish for trout 
the bed, each with rod and reel; while I 
as sturdy and healthy a girl as ever a father 
spanked, praised and played with. So much for 
the beneficent result of outdoor life. Now to 
Girl’s latest lesson: 
One morning I found that I had a day at my 
command, so when we gathered at the break¬ 
fast table I asked Girl if she thought her teacher 
would excuse her for the day. To which she 
sagely replied, I think so, if we promise to 
leave a mess of trout at her boarding place.” 
Oh, she is wise, that girl of ours, in some 
things. I told her to trot over and get teacher’s 
permission; to make any bargain she thought 
best, then get ready for the outing. In less time 
than the uninitiated might think possible we 
were bowling along the road in the direction of 
our pet stream. The trees, which stand like sen¬ 
tinels along our roadway, nodded a welcome, 
then whirled to the rear to await our return with 
much curiosity; at least that was Girl’s opinion 
and I was feign to accept it as truth, for in order 
to see the unseeable and know the unknowable 
one has only to consort with a child. 
Girl’s impatience increased with every rod of 
ground covered, and as we neared the stream I 
found my blood mounting; for who can with¬ 
stand the infectious exuberance of youth? I 
began to see visions and dream dreams with the 
reckless mental abandon of days long since de¬ 
parted. 
Iluriy up Dad, and I won’t make another cast 
until you catch a fish.” 
Of course I laughed at her and told her to fill 
her basket if she could, and that I did not care 
a bit; but secretly I was pleased. Would not 
you have been ? 
That first trout must have been waiting for 
Girl, for, though we fished faithfully, neither of 
us. took another fish for half an hour. Girl’s 
faith waned and she left me to solve the prob¬ 
lem while she gathered violets, a flower of never 
failing attraction with her. Violets are among 
our most common flowers—violets as white as 
snow save for a spot of color in the center; vio¬ 
lets as yellow as any sunset banner ever hung in 
the western sky; violets as blue as the matchless 
fringed gentian of September days. No wonder 
Girl is ravished of their beauty and variety. I 
found it difficult to attend to the business in 
hand, for my eyes would wander to the child 
as she sat amid the many blossoms weaving gar¬ 
lands for the absent mother. At last my pa¬ 
tience was rewarded and I took a sizeable fish 
from beneath a shelving bank. Calling Girl to the 
stream s side, I showed her how one might dis¬ 
cover what the fish were feeding upon by look¬ 
ing in their stomachs. The collection of earth¬ 
worms and caddis larva which the knife re¬ 
vealed clearly indicated that to fish with flies was 
to play a losing game; and we wanted fish. 
