tiful--so bright
and lovely that it made one feel as if there never had been a bad day
since the world began, and never would be another bad one to the end of
time. It was the fourth fine day of the six dreary weeks--the third,
which occurred some days before, was only half-and-half; and therefore
unworthy of special notice. Nevertheless, the Sudberrys felt sad. They
were _going away_! The mental sunshine of the rainy season was
beclouded, and the physical sunshine was of no avail to dispel such
clouds.

"My dear," said Mr Sudberry at breakfast that morning, in a very sad
tone, "have you any further use for me?"

"My dear, no," replied his partner, sorrowfully.

From the nature of these remarks and the tone in which they were
uttered, an ignorant spectator might have imagined that Mr Sudberry,
having suspected his wife of growing indifference, and having had his
worst fears confirmed from her own lips, meant to go quietly away to the
river and drown him in a deep pool with a strong eddy, so that he might
run no chance of being prematurely washed upon a shallow. But the good
man merely referred to "the packing," in connection with which he had
been his wife's right hand during the last three or four days.

"Well, then, my love, as the heavy baggage has gone on before, and we
are ready to start with the coach, which does not pass until the
afternoon, I will go and take a last cast in the river."

Mrs Sudberry made no objection; so Mr Sudberry, accompanied by George
and Fred, went down to the "dear old river," as they styled it, for the
last time.

Now it must be known, that, some weeks previous to this time, Hobbs had
been allowed by his master to go out for a day's trout-fishing, and
Hobbs, failing to raise a single fin, put on a salmon fly in reckless
desperation.

He happened, by the merest chance, to cast over a deep pool in which
salmon were, (and still are), wont to lie. To his amazement, a
"_whale_," as he styled it, instantly rose, sent its silvery body half
out of the water, and fell over with a tremendous splash, but missed the
fly. Hobbs was instantly affected with temporary insanity. He cast in
violent haste over the same spot, as if he hoped to hook the fish by the
tail before it should get to the bottom. Again! again! and over again,
but without result. Then, dancing on the bank with excitement, he
changed the fly; tried every fly in the book; the insanity increasing,
tried two flies at on