TROUT FOR SUPPER On the lee shore the edge of
the water was covered with the bodies of a million midges and other flies that had hatched in the heat of the previous day and died in the cold breeze at dusk. There seemed to be no chance of a fish rising, but when one tramps so far to cast a fly one must do so. The fly went out and drifted awhile on the glassy surface, seeming no more effective in bringing up a fish than the dead insects washed among the stones, but it had not been out long when a trout took a live fly a few yards away. At once the imitation was lifted off the water and dropped into the whorl of extending rings and the fish rose again immediately, betrayed by greed, as man often is. He came in after a brief boring in the depths and a mad leap into the sunlit air above the water. He wasn't a big fish—three-quarters of a pound—but big enough to grace a dish with perhaps
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