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YONDER rustic, just come to angle in the brook, is preparing his rod, and running out his line. Now he views attentively the ato mosphere, and anon considers the appearance of the liquid element; pauses a little,
Yonder rustic, just come to angle in the brook, is preparing his rod, and running out his line. Now he views attentively the atmosphere, and anon considers the appearance of the liquid element; pauses a little, and selects from his hooks the fly which he judges best, and having put all in order, artfully throws the line, and raising his hand, gently leads the impostor, where the stream *curls round the stone, by the cavity of the brow, or the prominent osier root: the unwary trout observes the deceitful fly, and is tempted from its covert. As if cautious of the danger, at first it springs at a little distance, but the temptation being renewed, it can withstand the force of appetite no longer, but greedily leaps close, and desperate takes the death; plunging down to the bottóm, it sharply feels the dreadful mistake; distracted with the crooked impostor in its mouth, it rushes impetuously down the curfent, bending the pliant rod, crossing and recrossing the stream, struggling hard to get rid of its unhappy morsel; but all in vain. At length, exhausted, it is slowly dragged, plasþing feebly, to the flowery bank.