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“For the Lord's sake, don't !" cried Timmins, frantic- , righted their real or supposed wrongs with knife or pistol, ally. “Some one might come in. You might have a fit, and would not have been at all surprised if “P. P." had and there isn't a drop of water in the office. You'll par incontinently produced any number of those little things ticularly oblige me if you won't.”

and dispatched him before he could say Jack Robinson. “I won't," said Maria Louise, rapidly recovering her" Thank you," said he, meekly ; “I'll do it." self. “I will do anything to oblige you. I will not faint. And he did it in his best hand, and with an extra I will be strong. I will tell you all. I will show you flourish under the signature. how, after wooing me in a hundred letters, each breath. “P. P.,” with the gravity of a judge, replaced tho ing the soul of passion, he has failed to answer my last letter in her bag, and said, as she rose to retire : letter, in which I urge bim to end my fond suspense and “Mr. Fitz Clarence Smith-I mean Mr. Rudolph Timto name the happy day.”

mins--I shall not be under the necessity of consulting “Couldn't you put it off until to-morrow, or next you professionally in this case, as you can readily un. month, or a year or two ? I'm pressed for time. You'd derstand. You probably desire also that this affair shall better," stuttered Timmins.

remain a profound secret between us ?”. “No," cried the lady; " you shall hear it now. And “Certainly-of course," stammered Timmins ; "but the shɔ drew a letter from her bag. “Hear what he says : letters--" · P. P.'—that's me "

To the return of those letters," said P. P., severely, “P.P,'” groaned Timmins. “That's you ?”

| “a condition is attached. It will, perhaps, be a penalty. “Of course it is. Maria Louise, otherwise Polly I shall require you to call twice a week on me at my own Pitkin. P. P.,' he writes, I know you are the loveliest house, and each time repeat your apology, and each timo of women.' Look at me, Mr. Timmins, and tell me was I | I will return you a letter in exchange for one insidiously wrong to believe him ?".

procured from me under your assumed name. GoodTimmins hazarded a timid glance.

morning, sir.” “It was rather strong," he said ; “but, then, you're What boots it to relate the rest of this awful tale? A uncommonly good-looking."

child could see through it. Dreading discovery, fearful It was strong," said Polly, placidly, although the of exposure, sure that if his identity with William Fitz corners of her mouth twitched curiously. “But Smith Clarence Smith ever became public, he would be a meant it at the time, for he goes on, 'I know your face is common laughing-stuck, a lost monster, he obeyed. He fair and your figure is perfection.' Where had he seen called twice a week on Pretty Polly Pitkin. But he never me ?"

recovered a quarter of his letters, for before he got to the “In his mind," said Timmins, dreamily, going away twelfth she married him. from his own individuality, and suffering a momentary And it is as sure as two and two make four she meant metempsychosis into Fitz Clarence Smith. “In his to do it. She meant it from the first. mind's eye, Horatio, P. P.”

It is pleasant to relate that she cured him. If he havo " I imagine to myself,'” continued Polly, reading any modesty left, it is hard to find. Like Bottom, he is slowly, and with well-considered emphasis, “those rosy “translated,” and stares in the most confident manner at lips, those tender eyes swimming in liquid light- " | every pretty woman he meets.

"That rounded form,'" broke in Timmins, like a man In point of fact, Mrs. Rudolph Timmins would have talking in his sleep, “those glancing shoulders whiter | her hands full, if she should ever cease to be either less than Parian marble. All, all, adored P. P., enchant, en-clear-headed and determined, or less good-looking as a chain, subdue me !"

wife, than she was as Pretty Polly Pitkin. “How ! what ?" cried Polly, starting up and grasping him by the arm. “You know the letter by heart. I see it all. A light breaks on me. You are Smith-the false,

THE BROOK-TROUT. perfidious Fitz Clarence Smith. You have attempted to

By M. SEYMOUR. trifle with a feeble girl, an unprotected maiden, under a false name !"

The brook-trout, the subject of the present article, is a “I am lost !" groaned Timmins.

member of the salmon family-quite an extensive family, No, you are found !" cried the inexorable Polly," and by-the-way-and is to be met with from the Atlantio if you have one spark of honor left, if every feeling of coast westward as far as Minnesota, and from Hudson's justice is not extinguished in your bosom, you will repeat | Bay to Virginia. The trout of the Rocky Mountains is after me the conclusion of that letter."

another species, of which we may treat at another time. And Polly proceeded to read :

The brook-trout (Salmo fontinalis) is a glorious, crim« • The moment, adored P. P.- Stop, sir! Write son-spotted, goldbrown-shadowed fish. The very name Polly Pitkin instead."

brings up associations of leafy quivering canopies over Timmins being truly in bodily fear, obeyed, trembling, brawling brooks, chattering and gullying their noisy way and she continued to read :

through mossy rocks and ferny banks tangled with ". The moment, adored Polly Pitkin, when I may clasp sumach, nut-bushes and alders; with cozy lakes nestling you in my arms as my wife will be the happiest, the most between hills of pine and birch and maple, to whose lilyblissful moment of my life.' Now, sir, what reparation padded shores the gray deer come down to drink and can a man of honor make for such an anonymous in-browse, and, startled by the loon's rude laughter, shrink sult ?"

back into the forest shades again. Oh! those lake-mir“Suppose I sign

rors of storm and sunshine, how beautiful and peaceful Your real name ?" said Polly.

they are ! laying their magical calm on the feverish “ As an apology, you know," said Timmins.

pulses of care, envy and all uncharitableness. “That might do,” said Polly. “It would be honest, at The brook-trout runs from a few ounces to twelve any rate, and look better.”

pounds; one instance records twenty-two pounds, caught “Thank you," said Timmins, much relieved, for, to tell in England, on the Thames, with a white fly, late in the the truth, he had read much of violent young women who I evening. This royal fish was presented to the Queen,

who had it painted, life size, by Rolfe, the eminent fishpainter. The general appearance, weight and flavor of the trout vary with the water it inhabits. Wherever it is possible it indulges, like the salmon, in an annual trip to the salt water for recuperation—like other exhausted beauties of a different type—and these are the most precious in the eyes of the sportsman and epicure. The trout spawns in November, and by March is fit for the table, although protected in some States by law until May. From that month until September he is the cause of much anxiety to anglers, rad especially to mothers of small boys, who fail to respond to the supper-call. As soon as the ice goes out and the trailing arbutus crimsons the lingering snow-patches in fresh shades, the trout come along the shores of ponds and rivers to feed greedily on subularine larvae and worms washed from the banks, and then the largest are taken ; later in the season they betake themselves to deeper water, and become more capricious in their appetite, and in the Summer heats they congregate around the spring-holes on the shallow borders of ponds. The habits of the brook-trout proper remain unchanged, provided any are left after June, until the fall freshets enable them to go up to the outlet of the nearest pond. It has been my good fortune to take trout from Maine to California, and from Upper St. Maurice to Virginia. When under every favorable circumstance I have expected a good day's sport, I have had none, and vice rersa, in a broiling sun and windless water I have taken a big string ; consequently, my angler friend, nil desperandum, stick to it, and some day they will stick to you. Now, here's a glorious May day; the plum bushes are just whitening, the lilacs bursting into bloom, and the rich balsam odor fills yonder woods. Let us take a couple of handy Japanese rods, costing twenty-five cents each, a box of worms, a good supply of No. 8 Sproat hooks, a strip of tea-chest lead for sinkers, some home-made breadand-butter, and a few slices of raw fat pork—you won't catch cold if you do get your feet wet—and now we'll strike across lots for an old logging-road through yonder woods that crosses a bully brook. Just hark 1 how the birds sing; hear that swamp-robin and his answer, and the golden robin's whistle, and the chirrup of the flying, glossy swallows. Here's the edge of the woods. Whirr I goes a partridge. Come along, scrambling through the cedar and maple scrub, treading the white anemomes and violets at every step; and now a few moments will bring us to the brook we can hear. Now, put up your rod and a short line, not more than two feet, and drop in. No, stand away back, remembering a trout has the eyes of a hawk. Where that tangle of brush chokes up the current, I bet there's some. Got him 2 That won't do. You must not “yank” him half a mile behind you, but strike him by a twist of the wrist, and draw him out. Don't get excited, and try again. Ah! you hooked him, but not firmly. That's better. Now we'll divide the worms and hooks. You go down and I'll go up the brook, and when the sun gets overhead retrace your steps, and meet me here. Put only a light sinker on, or you'll get caught in brush and logs all the time. Hullo 1 how many ? You don't know 2 Well, count up—fifty-six and seventy-five. None more than one-quarter of a pound. Now, I'll get a fire going; then wrap up a lot in well-buttered paper, and bury in hot ashes. When cooked, split up the back and clean, and here's a dish, as dear old Walton says, “fit only for anglers, or very honest gentlemen."

Now you've had your initiation into trouting. Next time we will try for bigger fish, with more skill. You want a good fly-rod, forty yards of silk line, two six-feet sinew leaders, two dozen assorted flies, and landing net. Where this brook empties in the river is a wide, shallow pool, where we can practice casting a fly. Get in the canoe. I will paddle you out. Now you have two flies on, to begin with. Now try and hit that lily-pad twenty feet away. Hear that crack 2 One of your flies gone. How 2 By not allowing the line to straighten out before drawing it back, you cracked it like a whip. Make allowance, and try again. Hi! that was a pounder rose at the stretcher, or last fly. Try him again. Got him 2 Keep a tight line, and keep cool. Now the rod bends nearly double. What gone? Don't look so blank; it was your fault; you failed to keep a tight line, and he broke away. This is very apt to happen. Go ahead, and try a few feet more line. Now you have one !—tight line, mind. Here's the net; there she is—a beauty 1 threequarters of a pound. Just see the glorious color on him. Now you begin to see that this is an art—an inseparable gulf divides the fly-fisher from the brook-prowler. You begin to be interested, and appreciate the angler's art. All this time you are under the unconscious spell of Nature's teaching, and find—

“Books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.”

Now, experience alone can teach you, remembering to fish “fine and far off”; strike your fish at the furthest distance with most delicate tackle. Never use a larger fly-hook than No. 10, except for bass—the latter will test your skill and muscle more than any living fish of their size, not excepting the royal salmon. The trout was one of the epicure's dainties in ancient Rome. To-day the artificial propagation of them is car. ried to great perfection, nearly all the States being inter. ested in the problem of cheap fish-food. When spawning, trout, like salmon, will vault quite a high fall to attain the gravelly reaches of higher waters for this purpose. Their peculiar leap is well represented in the illustration on page 24. After being hatched out, the trout fry are placed in shallow pans, and finally distributed to wired-off spaces of running water, where, besides their natural diet of flies and larvae, they are fed on chopped-up liver. See illustration. The flavor of these fish is far inferior to that of their wild brethren, but, on the other hand, they are always obtainable and bring a fancy price. Trout are carefully sought after by otter, mink, and other animals besides man, in spite of which their fecundity would fill the waters but for the shameful practice of taking them on the spawning-beds, and the newer but equally disgraceful slaughter of them by pot-hunters with dynamite cartridges. In order to be a successful trout-fisher, many years of observation and practice are required. The trout, as is generally conceded, feeds at early morning and evening, but this, like all other rules, has exceptions. I have made excursions into the “forest primeval" at the head-waters of the Connecticut River, and patiently tried fly after fly. The next day I devoted to worms, and sliver of trout-fin, a splendid bait sometimes; then I tried a bunch of deer'stail hair with worm, another lure which they affect when they will not take anything else; then the caddis-grub ; all without success. The latter you will notice has a shell of bark and tiny shells, etc., on the very edge of rivers and ponds. The grub turns to the famous may-fly.

The green-drake variety of may-fly comes from a rich u,

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THE BROOK-TROUT. golden-colored caddis, found only under rocks and stones, natural fly and tried it. I took a small trout, but not a in streams. These grubs in May are almost certain baits, fish of any size could I decoy. always provided you show not yourself to the fish.

Well, I was puzzled—and mad. My companion on As I said, I have spent a week or more patiently essay- / shore was hoarse with yelling at me to let him into the ing everything I could think of, even berries from over canoe and share what he thought was my paradise, and hanging bushes, and barely got enough for a meal-all I regret to say was rejoiced at my lack of luck. I ponthis under favorable weather, and suddenly a feeding fit dered over the matter many a time, and one Winter's would seize the fish, and they would take anything | night a thought struck me, which I carried out next day, greedily. Now, how is this? The above experience will and waited patiently but feverishly to try it. It was a be borne out by all trout-fishers, I am sure. Now for my cork-bodied fly, and I found it successful beyond my exhumble explanation : I think the trout, after the first pectations. My largest fish was nearly six pounds. gorge when the ice goes out, feed at irregular intervals, I see some one else has struck the same idea, and the extending over many days, and then, so to speak, fast for may-flies, on this principle, are to be found at almost any awhile. I remember one evening drifting in my canoe in tackle-store. Those wretched fish knew that a may-fly a shallow bay of a lake. The setting sun coloring the emerging from the chrysalis could not sink, and hence wooded hills

refused mine. and distant

On another mountains

occasion I had drew my atten

a boy who was tion, which

being initiated was diverted

in trouting. by sudden

We were splash of fish

crouching near the canoe.

among some I waited a

alders at the moment, and

base of an old anothor one

dam. Presentbroke water in

ly his pole was my vicinity. I

jerked down, saw they were

and he yanked taking the

up a twomay - fly, and

pound fish, threw one of

which got Abbey & Im

hitched in the brie's over

top of an alder. them. A swirl

Notwithstandat but no at

ing all my adtempt to take

vice to keep it. In a few

cool, he began moments the

a series of bay was liter

antics which ally alive with

ianded him trout break

overhead in ing ; some

the pool, and very large fish

drew down a of five pounds

portion of the leaping out of

clay bank with water. I

him. I got caught the A TROUT PRESERVE, NEAR ISLIP.

down the fish

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