already been there, and there wasn't a damned fish moving. I expressed my regret.
At this moment a little ring appeared in the water just where I was looking for it.
"A rise!" said Mr. Blennerhassett. "A rise, by God!"
He knelt down and began to switch out line. I passed my hand over my eyes. I thought that I was mad. I was not. When I removed my hand he was covering my fish. It was a deft cast. The fish rose; subsided.
"A damned dace," said Mr. Blennerhassett, reeling in.
I was quite dumb.
"Well," he observed, "I'll get on up the water." I wished him good sport. He strode away without replying. I observed him halt almost immediately, and begin to make very long casts towards the further bank, where I had been expecting a fish to show itself for half an hour.
My fish again rose. It was, as Mr. Blennerhassett had surmised, a dace. As I returned the poor little thing I heard my new acquaintance furiously shouting. "Have you a net?" he bellowed. I saw that his rod was bent.
I was now compelled to run up the bank with a net for this Blennerhassett. When I arrived I found that his trout was in the weeds. The
