The trout belongs to the salmon family. Its flesh is generally of a pale
pink or yellow color. It is one of the handsomest fish to be found in
our waters. The variations of its tints are very beautiful; and the red
spots on its skin distinguish it from common fish.
I never had much luck in catching trout. One summer I went from the city
to try the trout-streams in Northern New York. I had a handsome rod, and
a line nicely baited with an artificial fly; but, though I was very
persevering, my success was small.
I remember sitting for hours on the slender bridge just below the Upper
Cascades of Buttermilk Fall, represented in the picture; but my
patience was not rewarded by the capture of a single trout. I was sorry
for this; for I had depended on getting one for my dinner.
As I was about retiring, a little barefoot fellow, about twelve years
old, came along with a common fishing-pole, and hook baited with a worm,
and said, "Mister, I'll catch a trout for you."--"Do it, then," said I.
He threw his line over a smooth spot in the pool below; and, before he
had been at it five minutes, he pulled up a noble trout, large enough
for a good dinner. Another and another were pulled up in quick
succession. I did not know what to make of it; for I thought I had
fished in a very scientific way.
"Teach me the knack," said I. "Oh, it can't be taught," replied the boy.
"Well, here is a dime for your trouble," said I, putting the fish into
my pail. "Do you suppose I take pay for what I do for sport, mister?"
said little barefoot, waving back my hand with the air of a prince.
After that we became good friends, and met often at the bridge; but I
never could learn his knack of catching trout.