ugh, Tavvy," cried Kenneth, to conceal his own mirth. "Why,
can't you see that I was making you practise on the grass before letting
you throw in the water."

"She mustn't splash the watter," said Tavish sententiously.

"Scare the salmon away. Now then, try and throw."

Max made a clumsy effort; the line whistled through the air, and Tavish
gave a violent start.

"She nearly hookit her in the nose!" he cried.

Max stopped short, looking horribly perplexed; but Kenneth urged him on.

"Try again," he said. "Like that, and that, and that. It's easy
enough. Try and throw the fly lightly right away from you."

Max tried and tried, but with very indifferent success, Tavish making
him very nervous by shaking his head from time to time.

"No, no! not that way; this way!" cried Kenneth.

Max tried again.

"Now she's trying to hook her in the eye," muttered the forester, moving
out of range.

"Try if you can throw it a little worse," said Kenneth mockingly.

"I couldn't," sighed Max.

"Try."

Max threw once more.

"There, what did I say?" cried Kenneth.

"Try to throw a little worse; and I did," said Max apologetically.

"And you threw ten times better. He'll soon throw a fly, Tavvy."

"Ay, she'll soon throw a fly," said the forester.

"There; now you shall try and throw one downstream," said Kenneth.

"No, no; I'd rather you would try," cried Max.

"I can try any time. I want you to learn now. Look here! you see those
stepping-stones leading out to that big block?"

"What! right out there in the rushing water?"

"Yes; that's a splendid stand."

"She's a coot stand, a ferry coot stand," said Tavish. "She's caught
manny a coot fush there."

"But it looks so dangerous," pleaded Max.

"Nonsense!"

"But suppose I fell in?"

"Then Tavvy would fish you out with the gaff. Now don't be a coward.
Go out there, and try and throw your fly just over that big rock close
in-shore. See where I mean?"

"Yes, I see," said Max dolefully; "but I shall never do it."

"You won't without you try," cried Kenneth. "Now go out, and keep on
trying to throw till you make the fly fall on the other side of that big
block."

"But there's no watter there," said Tavish.

"Hold your tongue. You can't see behind it," said Kenneth. "How do you
know?"

"She knows there's no watter there, and if there was it wouldn't hold a
fush. You let him throw the flee yonder."

"Am I to fish with a flea?" said Max.