al appearance. The species runs to a hundredweight, I
believe, in the Mississippi.

There was a river form that seemed particularly anxious to come to the
front that is called the sea trout, from its rough-and-ready
resemblance to that species, but its real name is the weak-fish--a sad
come-down for any creature. There was a puffed-out beast, with velvet
jacket, zebra markings, and turquoise eye, which was a perfect monster
of ugliness, but I did not catch its name. Its head was as much a
caricature as a pantomime mask.

On another page I mentioned the killing of a fontinalis trout of over 9
lb., and I begged the captor to tell me the story of his prize. "Why,
certainly," said Mr. Osgood; "I caught that fish with the rod, and the
place was a typical anglers' paradise. You'll experience that for
yourself when you keep that promise you have made me. You see, when I
made my first cast---- Oh! I beg your pardon. Begin at the beginning
must I? I understand; you want to give your English brother
anglers--and my brother anglers too, I suppose?--an idea of what a
fishing expedition is like out here, do you? Then I begin first at New
York.

"You take the evening boat at 5.30 for Boston, fare four dollars.
There is beautiful sleeping accommodation, the Sound is smooth water
all the time, and you get to Boston at half-past seven next morning.
Better get your breakfast on board before you land, and then take the
8.30 Boston and Maine line train, reaching Portland at noon. Then you
switch on to the Grand Trunk system for Bryant's Pond, reached at 4.20.
Here you take the stage coach with a team of six horses, runners and
fliers all. The road is pretty hilly, however, and your twenty-mile
drive brings you to Andover for early supper, having on the road
crossed--coach team, and everything--a wide river (the Androsciggin) by
a float, hauled over by a rope. You stay at Andover for the night, and
next morning continue the journey in a birchboard waggon with a pair of
horses. This is a delightful drive through winding woods along the
side of a hill, crossing numbers of small streams.

"Eventually you enter the Narrows, from which you emerge into
Mollechuncamunk, a small Indian name that takes practice to pronounce.
It is necessary to mention it nevertheless, because, in the river
between it and Mooseluckmegunquic, you find the largest trout. Indian
name too? Why cert'nly. It tells its own story pretty well also, bu