or the moral character of his contemporaries. Tip Taylor always took
off his hat and sighed when he spoke of the 'ol' settler'. Ransom Walker
said he had once seen his top fin and thought it longer than a razor.
Ransom took to idleness and chewing tobacco immediately after his
encounter with the big fish, and both vices stuck to him as long as he
lived. Everyone had his theory of the 'ol' settler'. Most agreed he was
a very heavy trout. Tip Taylor used to say that in his opinion ''twas
nuthin' more'n a plain, overgrown, common sucker,' but Tip came from the
Sucker Brook country where suckers lived in colder water and were more
entitled to respect.

Mose Tupper had never had his hook in the 'ol' settler' and would
believe none of the many stories of adventure at Deep Hole that had
thrilled the township.

'Thet fish hes made s' many liars 'round here ye dimno who t' b'lieve,'
he had said at the corners one day, after Uncle Eb had told his story of
the big fish. 'Somebody 't knows how t' fish hed oughter go 'n ketch him
fer the good o' the town--thet's what I think.'

Now Mr Tupper was an excellent man but his incredulity was always too
bluntly put. It had even led to some ill feeling.

He came in at our place one evening with a big hook and line from 'down
east'--the kind of tackle used in salt water.

'What ye goin' t' dew with it?' Uncle Eb enquired.

'Ketch thet fish ye talk 5' much about--goin' t' put him out o' the
way.'

''Tain't fair,' said Uncle Eb, 'its reedic'lous. Like leading a pup with
a log chain.'

'Don't care,' said Mose, 'I'm goin' t' go fishin t'morrer. If there
reely is any sech fish--which I don't believe there is--I'm goin'
t' rassle with him an' mebbe tek him out o' the river. Thet fish is
sp'llin' the moral character o' this town. He oughter be rode on a
rail--thet fish hed.'

How he would punish a trout in that manner Mr Tupper failed to explain,
but his metaphor was always a worse fit than his trousers and that was
bad enough.

It was just before haying and, there being little to do, we had also
planned to try our luck in the morning. When, at sunrise, we were
walking down the cow-path to the woods I saw Uncle Eb had a coil of bed
cord on his shoulder.

'What's that for?' I asked.

'Wall,' said he, 'goin' t' hev fun anyway. If we can't ketch one thing
we'll try another.'

We had great luck that morning and when our basket was near full we came
to Deep Hole and made ready for a s