CHAPTER V.

A STORY OF A LILY.

OW, the great trouble about fishing,” said the

small chum, as she tossed her line far out i11to the river, “is that I must call upon you always to haul in my catch.

“I know a great deal about it. Oh, yes, I do; you needn’t smile. I know that the trout in Elk River are too aristocratic t0 nibble at a worm. Noth- ing short of a steelback minnow will tempt them. I know they like to hide under rolling logs, and in the cool, deep pools. But the thing I dorft know is,— when to pull them up. I am either too quick or else too late. I ilever pull at the right time.”

The old fisherman laid aside the sinker he was fastening to his line, gave the silver hound a gentle kick, and said:

You’ve struck the key-note of the sport. And not alone of this sport, but of all sport, and of all serious ventures, too. To pull at the proper time. That is the great secret of all successes. It’s worth getting in your memory book. Pull when you feel the fish

nibble, if you would save your bait and hang your 49