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fully prepared to resume our several avocations, and fight again the battles of life with renewed courage and hope.

P.S.-We were absent from Barrie twenty-five days in all, and the whole trip cost us only one hundred and thirty-five dollars, or forty-five dollars each. Our ice was kept almost intact by being wrapped in blankets and covered with spruce boughs. Mr. Boon, before referred to, has built and is this winter (1883) filling a large ice-house on the small island for his own use and that of any visitors who may fish in the neighborhood next summer. Mr. Boon took five hundred half barrels of choice fish on these grounds last season; with nets, of course.

"If there is one day's fishing in the year which the troutangler looks forward to more keenly than any other, it surely is the first day with his favorite old rod on the bank of some favorite stream."-R. B. Marston.

it.

"A salmon will rise again and again at a fly after he has missed In this he differs widely from the trout."-Lorenzo Prouty. "Then I gave him a gray hackle and told him that that was to the trout what bread was to civilized man-a staple article of which he seldom grew tired."—" Bourgeois."

"I am inclined to believe that more important than fishing up or down stream, more important than wearing brilliant or sobertinted clothing, more important than wading rather than fishing from the bank, more important than a dry or a wet fly, more important than being yourself visible or concealed, more important, indeed, than any of the different cautions of the books, is it to have your leader absolutely invisible, or, if that is impossible, then at least that it present to the trout no unusual or unfamiliar appearance."-Henry P. Wells.

"The idea that each month has its own killing flies is sheer nonsense; a fly that is good on a bright day in the spring is good on any other bright day, although it must be admitted that trout are fickle in their tastes."-Fred Mather.

"Hackled flies are generally better than those that are winged; but dress both, and give the fish which they prefer."-Michael Theakston.

"After fishing for a time with any one fly, and the salmon refuse to rise at it freely, we change to an opposite color, say from dark to light, or vice versa, which we find will bring them up when the former fly has lost its attraction or been regarded with suspicion."-Allan Gilmour.

"The rudest appliances of a savage life have been used to aid the angler at his delightful task, and science has not disdained to aid the modern fisherman in his sport."-Genio C. Scott.

THE ANGLER'S GREETING.

BY

W. DAVID TOMLIN.

WHITHER away, friend! Your black slender rod-box and the creel denote you are on fishing intent, but where are you bound?

A momentary glance, a cordial good evening; the question then came-To whom am I indebted for this greeting? An exchange of cards resulted in a long and cordial grasp of hands; glad to meet you! Is it possible? The magic pasteboard revealed two names not unknown to each other through the columns of their favorite angling journal, and this visitor had come to the little country station in quest of some of the fishing often spoken of in the said paper.

The fates had led the correspondent to the railway station to bid good-bye to a friend when the angler unlimbered himself therefrom; and was looking around as strangers do.

"Can you recommend a quiet inn near this point where I can find decent treatment? I am not inclined to be fussy."

A few minutes' walk and I introduced him to mine host, who was a genuine piscator, and nothing pleased

him better than to have an angler under his roof: he took possession of him and considered nothing too much trouble, so long as he gave his guests good fishing, clean beds, a square meal, and satisfaction.

While supper was being prepared, we pleasantly chatted over the prospect of sport, and the angler's aim and ambition. He wanted a day or two of trouting, and some roach fishing with a fly, as he had read some letters giving an experience in fishing for these dainty fish, and intended trying them. The inspection of a well-filled fly-book showed how carefully he had selected his stock.

The early supper over, we strolled up the hillsides. overlooking this lovely vale. On the grassy downs we seated ourselves, and I pointed out to him the various fishing points; yonder is a splendid reach where the trout are always found; see that sheeny rivulet coming down through that clump of trees! that is the best trout stream in this section of country.

Note the different water-courses. The canal runs through the middle of the valley; see here, clear away to the west, a little brook comes tumbling in; see just below that point, a silvery-looking stream on the farther side of the canal-that is a fine trout stream; follow its course until it loses itself in that big clump of willows: a saw-mill is hidden in those willows, and the stream, after supplying the mill with power, drops into a culvert under the bed of the canal; there it is again in that piece of open moorland; there it is coming out

from that long clump of willows, and finally joining the stream mentioned before as the best trout stream in this region; thus the two streams, the Gade and the little Bourne, are swallowed up in the canal; and have always been splendid waters for roach fishing.

The hills hide the canal and streams in their winding course, or I would point out to you the best fishing grounds for miles along this Hertfordshire valley; but I presume there lies under your observation enough fishing ground for a day or two.

The sun is tending downward like a huge ball of fire, the vale is in a dreamy shade; how glistening the appearance of the water-courses, like a big silvery thread winding in and out along the vale! the evening air is full of music; the bee is humming around you; what a flood of music comes from the throat of that woodland thrush in yonder thorn hedge! the strain is taken up, and the very woods echo again with the song of the black-bird. As he ceases his roundelay, the soft clear note of another bird strikes on the ear; for the moment nature seems hushed; almost breathless you wait; the notes come rich and clear, as silvery as a lute, a flood of melody; the sound dies away and instantly the woods ring again; all the sweet-throated songsters seem as if applauding the song of the nightingale; we sit and drink in these sounds, until one by one the songs drop into silence, leaving the nightingale to pour out its tuneful music until far into the night. At this moment there comes in the air the quivering boom of a

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