hasty. Why should not women, who take a warm interest in everything else that affects their husbands and sons, be interested in their favourite sports? And as for the children, a more suitable or healthy light reading could not be put into their hands; it would tend to develope and foster a taste for manly sport and a love of nature, both of which I consider the greatest safeguards against the less innocent and more injurious habits of city life. I could wish to see all young men with this taste, and a wise father should encourage it in his boys. When our mothers encourage this taste we shall have more vigorous and healthy youth, and more muscular and well-developed manhood. The too close application of our youth to study or dissipation, and the want of sufficient out-door exercise among professional and commercial men, are beginning to tell upon their physique; and although gymnastic and calisthenic exercises are doing much to rectify the ill effects of our social habits, yet more indulgence in active out-door sports is needed to remove them entirely."

"I quite agree with you, sir," said Harry, "and I am so well convinced of the truth of your remarks, that, though still an invalid, and but the shadow of my former self, I already feel the benefit of the last two days in open air. I hope to leave this place quite strong and hearty, and I am sure I shall enjoy the means which produce this desirable result. I have often wondered at the prevalence of the custom among Americans to congregate in densely crowded watering places, and submit to all their annoyances and inconveniences simply because it is fashionable. The excuse that it is done for health is too palpably absurd to deceive even themselves; for the dissipation, and above all, the late hours that prevail in these fashionable resorts, more than neutralize any benefit derived from change of air and the use of the springs."

"That is quite true," said Mr. R., "and is now beginning to be better understood. I confidently look for a great change in this custom ere long, and really, I must admit, the sooner it takes place the better."

"Well," said Fred, "let the future take care of itself; I hope fortune will favour us to-morrow, and that we shall find the sport as good as it was this morning."

66

Fred," observed Papa, "there is a remark attributed to the first Napoleon, although I suspect its paternity belongs to Frederick William of Prussia, to the effect that fortune wonderfully favours the army that has the heaviest artillery; and I must say that my experience in life corroborates the truth of the observation. Now, you will generally find that in angling, fortune favours him who has good rods, good lines and good flies, and has acquired skill in their use. These conditions have a powerful effect in conciliating the fickle dame, and I commend to your consideration the general principle involved."

In conversation of this kind the evening slipped rapidly away, and after accepting their invitation to join them in a walk to the top of Prospect Hill" at 10 o'clock next morning, and to dine with them at four in the afternoon, we bade our hospitable entertainers good night and strolled back to our more modest, yet still very comfortable tent.

In the morning we were early astir, and soon at work in the rapids in front of our camping ground.

The stream which empties Grand Lake is about three miles in length, and, although not very broad, presents, on a miniature scale, every feature of a large river. There are short stretches of deep, quiet water, placid as a pond; long reaches of foaming rapids, with huge boulders standing high above the crested waves; rocky precipices over which the waters, pent up by the narrow gorges through which they crowd, leap and roar, seethe and boil, rush and wrestle, till they reach a smoother course, when they spread out into broad shallows with pebbly bottoms, over which they dance and laugh at their recovered freedom. The shore, also, is as various in its aspects as the stream. In some places the woods grow to the very edge, and overhang the water; in others a smooth and grassy strand delights the angler; here steep and frowning banks almost forbid access to the stream; there a sandy beech offers fine footing; while sometimes a swampy shore renders the passage difficult. In spring when the water is high and cold, to fish from a canoe such places as cannot be reached from shore, without wading, is more comfortable; but in summer and early autumn, when the water is low and warm, there is scarcely a good cast on the whole stream that cannot be reached without the necessity of wading knee-deep.

From the foot of Grand Lake, for about one-fourth of a mile, the water flows quickly but smoothly, after which it is broken into a series of rapids, as it passes over a rocky and uneven bed. In these rapids the trout love to lie, and in the last of summer, and the first month in autumn, no better fishing than this fine stream affords, can be found in the world. In the spring, however, the fish are more scattered in the stream, but are taken in large numbers above the dam, where they appear to congregate on the breaking up of the ice. They are, perhaps, more numerous in the spring, than during the summer or autumn, but their average size is much less, and they are neither so strong nor so active; the coldness of the water, perhaps, inducing a sluggishness quite foreign to their motions later in the season. The average size in the spring, in consequence of the great number of small fish taken, will not exceed a pound; but in autumn the small ones appear to have attained a uniform size of about two pounds, and these with the frequent capture of some which weigh two and a half or three pounds, with the occasional achievement of securing one three and a half or four pounds, make a fair average about two pounds and a half.

With suitable tackle the sport is magnificent, for these fish have the habits of the true salmon; they take the fly much in the same way, but much more freely; and when hooked act precisely like their more aristocratic relations. They make the same exciting rushes, the same splendid leaps, and when foiled in their efforts to get rid of the exasperating hook, they go to the bottom to consider matters, or, as most fishermen say "get sulky," and refuse to move. In short, with proper tackle, they give as much sport, and almost as much thrilling excitement as the Salmo Salar does with the use of stronger implements.

We spent the morning very pleasantly and took nearly a dozen each

of the splendid fish, which afforded us most delightful sport, and just sufficient exercise to induce good humour and a sharp appetite. We had ceased fishing, and were about returning to the tent, to look after the preparation of breakfast, when Papa and Mr. R., each in a canoe, appeared at the head of the rapid. Seeing us, and not wishing to interfere with our sport, they courteously bade us good morning, asked "what luck," and were on the point of turning back. Upon our assurance that we had concluded our morning's fishing, were about leaving the stream, and that their presence would in no way interfere with us, they informed us that the immediate neighbourhood of the dam was thronged with fishermen, and that a desire for elbow-room had led them to seek it beyond the "Home Circuit." They at once occupied our late places, and were soon as successful as we had been, the fish rising freely to the fly and giving good sport when hooked. Jim and Harry lingered in conversation a few minutes, and were gratified by witnessing two singular occurrences, both of which are worthy of

note.

Mr. R. was standing on a rock in the middle of the stream immediately above the rapid. A long cast enabled him to place his fly in the first ridges of the tossing water below. Scarcely had he made his third cast, when a swirl larger than usual, indicated the rise of a fine fish. The indiscribable turn of the angler's wrist fixed the upper hook of the cast, and down the rapid went the fish, the reel discoursing music eloquent of strength and determination. Masterly management of rod and line soon turned the runaway's head up stream, and careful handling brought him cleverly within reach of the net. Just as this was being put under him, and his capture was considered certain, he gave a splendid leap, which afforded us the first sight we had of him, and exhibited the proportions of the finest trout we had yet seen. Again he made for the rapid, but was snubbed on the very verge of the tumbling water, and was coming home again, slowly but surely. At this critical moment, a small trout, not exceeding three-fourths of a pound, struck the trail fly, and darting into the air directly across the course of the fish already hooked, jerked the fly out of his mouth, and set him at liberty, much to Mr. R.'s disgust, who was not at all pleased with the exchange, nor with this instance of rare magnanimity in a fish. The one taken was a poor equivalent for what we all agreed was apparently one of the largest of the species.

The other incident occurred with Papa, who, fishing from the canoe, had taken several average fish. He was in the act of recovering line for a fresh cast, when he became aware that something had struck the trail fly, but not having seen any signs of a fish, he was in doubt what the obstruction might be. Presently he became convinced that it was a fish, but the strange manner in which it acted, puzzled him exceedingly. However, he proceeded to use both skill and caution, and after most capital handling, he reeled in till the knot which joined the leader to the main line reached the tip of the rod, and would go no further. Papa's astonishment was unbounded. He thought his line bewitched. He knew perfectly well that his leader was but 9 feet long, and yet there was a respectable fish at least 15 feet from him,

while the knot of the leader touched the tip of his rod. As he could not shorten the line sufficiently to bring the fish within reach of the landing net, and as the closest attention of the Indian was required to manage the frail bark in the rapid, he could get no assistance from that quarter; so he directed the canoe to be run ashore. This was done, and the Indian, wading into the water, slipped the net under the captive and bore him to shore. As soon as the weight of the fish was taken from the rod, and allowed the arch to recoil, the fly dangled in the air, and still more increased Papa's astonishment, for there was his 9 foot leader intact, flies all right, and there was a good fish in the net. The mystery was soon solved, for the fish in the net had the trail fly of a leader, with two other flies attached to it, firm in his mouth. By a strange chance the upper fly of this leader had caught the trail fly of Papa's, just as he was lifting it from the water, and the successful capture of the fish reflected the highest honour on his skill as an angler; for had he, at any time, allowed a single inch of slack line, the two hooks would have fallen apart, and Papa would probably have concluded that he had caught a floating twig or chip, invisible in the broken water, and would never have known that bad management had lost him a trophy of which the most skilful angler might be proud.

We now left our kind friends to pursue their sport, being reminded by them of our appointment at ten o'clock, and returned to our tent, where Sabattis had all the preliminaries of breakfast prepared. The trout were soon roasted in a manner peculiar to Harry, an omelet fried, coffee made, and these, with the assistance of a sharp appetite produced by exercise, good bread, delicious butter, and new milk furnished by Mr. Gould, who every morning supplied these dainties, enabled us to enjoy breakfast with a zest and relish to which city life is a total stranger.

Breakfast is a pleasant meal to the angler, for it is never hurriedhis morning sport is over, and the exercise of the previous hours not only induces a good appetite, but disposes him to indulge in the dolce far niente of repose, after a hearty meal. There are no business cares to hurry him, no news of the day to be devoured, no pressing letters to be answered, but there is the delightful consciousness that nothing which would, in the slightest degree, interfere with his comfort need occupy his attention. Hence the charm of camp life; and our invalid enjoyed this respite all the more because he knew its duration would be limited. Lighting our pipes, we whiled away the hour that intervened till our appointment with our new friends, and as the time approached, we sauntered in the direction of Camp Saptogus, stopping to exchange courtesies with the numerous parties of fishermen who were encamped between our location and that of our friends.

This spring the gathering was a large one, and when we reached the stream, no fewer than thirteen snow-white tents dotted the green surface of the cleared space immediately below the dam. The place presented quite a picturesque aspect, and various groups of sportsmen were variously employed. Some were busily occupied in preparing breakfast, some in partaking of it. Of those who had finished their sport and broken their fast, some were inspecting rods and lines,

selecting flies, and arranging their books preparatory to a trip up the lake, where the sport was varied by trolling for toag, or angling for speckled trout; others were superintending the preparation of their morning trophies for the smoke-house; all were occupied in some of the various avocations that lend charms to the angler's holiday, and from all we met that hearty good will and courteous attention which distinguish the intercourse of all true sportsmen. In one of these groups we met Charles and Fred, who were also paying a morning visit to some acquaintances. We exchanged compliments, and accompanied them in their morning calls, receiving hearty welcome and flattering attentions from all. We found that all had met with fair sport;

some favourites of fortune having taken as many as two dozen fish. Sauntering on to our friends' quarters, we found Papa and Mr. R. equipped for their walk, and waiting only our arrival. They informed us that they had had fine sport after we left them, and had desisted only when a summons to breakfast reminded them of the hour.

We now all set off on our walk to the top of the hill, which was not far, but the steepness of the ascent, the thick growth of a species of heather, which often rose to the waist, and the frequent occurrence of fallen trees, made our progress slow-in some places difficult. These trifling obstacles, however, were soon overcome, and in half an hour we were on the summit, filling our lungs with the delightful air, and enjoying the rare beauties spread out on every side.

We appeared to be in the centre of a panorama of lakes, studded with islands of all sizes and of every shape. Distant ranges of wooded hills bounded the view on every side. In the immediate foreground Grand Lake stretched its silvery expanse, broken only by densely wooded islands, whose green foliage, with the overhanging clouds and blue sky, were reflected in the calm depths of its placid waters. On the left, the stream we have before described wound its sinuous way like a thread of silver on a ground of emerald green, till it was lost in the distant waters of Big Lake. On the right, every link in the chain of lakes through which we had passed on our upward journey, was visible, with Princton in the extreme distance, and the Indian Village at Point Pleasant, with its humble church, plainly perceptible; while green fields, dotted with grazing herds, comfortable farm-houses, and clustering orchards, alternated with dense forests, sloping hills, deep vallies and winding streams.

For some moments each stood silently gazing on this magnificent scene, and indulging in the various emotions it excited.

"There," said Papa, at length, "did I at all exaggerate the beauties of this view?"

"By no means,” replied Jim, "your enthusiastic description prepared me for something grand, but I did not expect this pleasant surprise. I have stood on the top of Mount Misery in St. Kitts, and have scaled the highest accessible peaks in the beautiful island of Nevis, from each of which I admired the beauty of the Carribean Sea, and looked down on tall palms, fragrant orange groves, and waving fields of feathery canes, rustling in the breeze; I have seen all the vaunted beauties of the Antilles-these gems studding the ocean's breast-but