that the small dun is the man, for the trout seem to think
that it is the very thing they have been looking for all day, and rise
at it two at a time.

They fish downwards; and after killing half-a-dozen half-pound fish,
come to a place where another stream joins the first, making it double
its original size, and here there is a great oak-root jutting into a
large deep pool.

The Vicar stands back, intensely excited. This is a sure place for a
big fish. The Major, eager but cool, stoops down and puts his flies in
just above the root at once; not as a greenhorn would, taking a few
wide casts over the pool first, thereby standing a chance of hooking a
little fish, and ruining his chance for a big one; and at the second
trial a deep-bodied brown fellow, about two pounds, dashes at the
treacherous little blue, and gulps him down.

Then what a to-do is there. The Vicar jumping about on the grass,
giving all sorts of contradictory advice. The Major, utterly despairing
of ever getting his fish ashore, fighting a losing battle with infinite
courage, determined that the trout shall remember him, at all events,
if he does get away. And the trout, furious and indignant, but not in
the least frightened, trying vainly to get back to the old root. Was
there ever such a fish?

But the Major is the best man, for after ten minutes troutie is towed
up on his side to a convenient shallow, and the Vicar puts on his
spectacles to see him brought ashore. He scientifically pokes him in
the flank, and spans him across the back, and pronounces EX CATHEDRA--

"You'll find, sir, there won't be a finer fish, take him all in all,
killed in the parish this season."

"Ah, it's a noble sport," says the Major. "I shan't get much more of
it, I'm afraid."

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Well, I'll tell you," says the Major. "Do you know how much property I
have got?"

"No, indeed."

"I have only ten thousand pounds; and how am I to bring up a family on
the interest of that?"

"I should fancy it was quite enough for you," said the Vicar; "you have
only one son."

"How many more am I likely to have, eh? And how should I look to find
myself at sixty with five boys grown up, and only 300L. a-year?"

"That is rather an extreme case," said the Vicar; "you would be poor
then, certainly."

"Just what I don't want to be. Besides wanting to make some money, I am
leading an idle life here, and am getting very tired of it. And so--"
he hesitated.

"And