ishing, and the mysteries of
the camera, and the deep question of what makes some negatives too thin
and others too thick, we must go out to see the big salmon which one of
the ladies had caught a few days before, and the large trout swimming
about in their cold spring. It seemed to me, as we went on our way,
that there could hardly be a more wholesome and pleasant summer-life
for well-bred young women than this, or two amusements more innocent and
sensible than photography and fly-fishing.

It must be confessed that the horse-yacht as a vehicle of travel is not
remarkable in point of speed. Three miles an hour is not a very rapid
rate of motion. But then, if you are not in a hurry, why should you care
to make haste?

The wild desire to be forever racing against old Father Time is one of
the kill-joys of modern life. That ancient traveller is sure to beat
you in the long run, and as long as you are trying to rival him, he
will make your life a burden. But if you will only acknowledge his
superiority and profess that you do not approve of racing after all,
he will settle down quietly beside you and jog along like the most
companionable of creatures. That is a pleasant pilgrimage in which the
journey itself is part of the destination.

As soon as one learns to regard the horse-yacht as a sort of moving
house, it appears admirable. There is no dust or smoke, no rumble of
wheels, or shriek of whistles. You are gliding along steadily through
an ever-green world; skirting the silent hills; passing from one side of
the river to the other when the horses have to swim the current to find
a good foothold on the bank. You are on the water, but not at its mercy,
for your craft is not disturbed by the heaving of rude waves, and the
serene inhabitants do not say "I am sick." There is room enough to move
about without falling overboard. You may sleep, or read, or write in
your cabin, or sit upon the floating piazza in an arm-chair and smoke
the pipe of peace, while the cool breeze blows in your face and the
musical waves go singing down to the sea.

There was one feature about the boat, which commended itself very
strongly to my mind. It was possible to stand upon the forward deck and
do a little trout-fishing in motion. By watching your chance, when the
corner of a good pool was within easy reach, you could send out a hasty
line and cajole a sea-trout from his hiding-place. It is true that the
tow-ropes and the post made the back