done with it. He had graduated from the
nursery, and had found his place on the battle-field of life.

It must be admitted, however, that he did not look much like a mature
trout, even now. He was less than three-quarters of an inch long, and
his big head, bulging eyes, and capacious mouth were out of all
proportion to his small and feeble body. But time and food were all
that was needed to set these matters right; and now that he had learned
how, he set to work and did his level best. I should be afraid to guess
how many tiny water-creatures, insects and larvae and crustaceae, found
their way down his throat, but it is pretty safe to say that he often
ate more than his own weight in a single day. And so he grew in size and
strength and symmetry, and from being a quiet, languid baby, always
hiding in dark corners, and attending strictly to his own affairs, he
became one of the liveliest and most inquisitive little fishes in all
the stream. To a certain extent he developed a fondness for travelling,
and in company with other troutlets of his own age and size he often
journeyed from place to place in search of new surroundings and new
things to eat. In fly-time he found a bountiful food-supply in the
mosquitoes and black-flies that swarmed over the stream, and it was fun
to see him leap from the water, catch one of them in his mouth, and drop
back with a triumphant little splash. It wasn't really very considerate
in him to prey on those biting, stinging flies, for in after years they
would be his best defenders against anglers and fishermen, but
consideration doesn't seem to be one of the strong points in a brook
trout's character.

It would take too long to tell of all his youthful doings during the
next year, and of all his narrow escapes, and the many tight places that
he got into and out of. It was a wonder that he ever pulled through at
all, but I suppose it is necessary that a few trout should grow up, for,
if they didn't, who would there be to eat the little ones?

Once a kingfisher dived for him, missed him by a hair's-breadth, and
flew back, scolding and chattering, to his perch on an old stub that
leaned far out over the water. And once he had a horrible vision of an
immense loon close behind him, with long neck stretched out, and huge
bill just ready to make the fatal grab. He dodged and got away, but it
frightened him about as badly as anything can frighten a creature with
no more nerves than a fish. And man