of

of Cumberland and Westmoreland. So near does the appearance the two assimilate in all points, that I should unhesitatingly pronounce them, at a bird's eye view, to be one and the same genus. After the mode pursued by the salmon, on merging into our inland streams, it peregrinates into the interior by nocturnal stages, taking up its temporary residence during the day in the deep holes and eddies which it may perchance meet with in its way. And here it is that the fisherman has an opportunity afforded him of exercising his tact and ingenuity with his pliant rod and fly. Should the sun shine bright upon the water, Piscator may keep in doors, and save himself the unnecessary trouble of putting himself out of his way for nothing; for the salmon-trout will not rise to the surface in the face of the sunbeams, however luring and tempting the bait may prove that is tendered to him. But, on the contrary, should the day prove cloudy and calm, a watchful person may observe his anticipated captive chopping at small flies and other insects which may happen to court the wave in the immediate locality of their watchful devourer. I have known instances of the above fish frequenting particular holes in shallow rivers for weeks together, before they have had a chance of meeting with water enough to aid them in forcing their way up to higher parts of the stream. In such instances, by constant usage to the fall of the artificial fly, and finding the same a cheat and a feint, they altogether avoid it, and refuse to notice the same. I have changed and varied my fly patterns to the fullest extent on such occasions; but I found it, after all, of no avail; for the fish was possessed of vulpine cunning and astuteness, and was, like an "old bird" (as the saying is), not "to be caught with chaff." But I have, rather than be disappointed in my aim and object, had ultimately recourse to a never-failing expedient, in my attempt to net my shy and non-complying customer. During the dusk of the evening the salmontrout is exceedingly active, for it is a fish that feeds principally during that interval, before it commences its endeavours to ascend higher up the rivers. During this vespertine period, a large variety of moths, are to be met with, toying upon the wing in almost all the meads that are situated near water-courses, and the phalana tribe are eagerly seized by the whole of the trout and salmon family. I have, therefore, when I have found all other means fail, succeeded in obtaining a large brown moth, which creature is common during the present month, and placed it upon a No. 6 hook, gently casting the same on the surface of the water, adjunct to the hole or ambuscade of the fish. Should the finny tenant be at home, he will be sure to carp at his favourite morsel; and I have successfully hooked and secured him, when every other method I have previously invented to capture him had effectually failed. In open, quick, rapid water, the "May fly" and the "palmer" I have found more generally attractive to salmon-trout than any other I have used. In the river Itchin, which runs through a course of meadows at a village called Twyford, situated about three miles south of Winchester, I have during the dusky evenings of June fished for more than a mile down the stream, and with a small black gnat succeeded in handling twenty to thirty brace of fine trout, but never once struck one of the first-named fish, although I was aware that the same were numerous in that locality.

It is astonishing how perseveringly the salmon-trout will force its

66

way up the most shallow passes, to effect its passage eventually to the spring-heads of water-courses. During the early part of August, I was one moonlight night returning late from a party of friends occupying a farm near Boldre, and had to ford, for want of a bridge, a portion of the Warburn river, at the entrance of an extensive marsh. This ford went by the name of Shallows among the country folk around, as being the only fordable part of the river for some miles. Before I approached the spot, my ear was assailed by some unaccountable sounds proceeding from the water, which gave me an idea that an otter" was at hand; but, to my surprise, on nearing the pass, I discovered no less than three salmon-trout, struggling to make their way through the shoal in question, towards a deep hole which terminated it. The water did not half-cover the fish, and they had proceeded so far up the strait, that it would have proved as difficult a task for them to recede to the flood whence they had aberrated, as it would be for them to progress forward. I could have baled the whole of them out of their precarious and perplexing position with all possible ease, but such an illegitimate species of legitimacy was not in accordance or in keeping with my views of true genuine angling. I gave them the full chance of arriving unmolested at the end of their arduous, fatiguing, and perilous journey, under an impression that, if they were not netted or hooked by the way, they might eventually be lucky enough to reach their spawning beds, and complete and consummate the purposes which directed them to our shores.

There is, however, a class of idle characters in all country neighbourhoods, who, rather than gain their bread industriously, prefer to do so by other and less praiseworthy means. They are, unfortunately, encouraged by those who prove themselves incentives and accessaries to the crime of poaching, and the many evils which that crime engenders, and who ought to know better and to do better. Among the above class of characters, I would here allude to a set of fellows (for I can call them no better), who haunt, at early morn, the rivers which salmon-trout are known to frequent, and by entering the holes in which they take refuge for the day, grope them out, as they are pleased to term it. This they do by driving the fish under some shelving bank, or thick mass of weeds, in which all the salmon and trout species are accustomed to take refuge the moment any startling object obtrudes itself on them, when free in their native element; and by this means they tickle the bellies of their capture, which sensation appears to mesmerize their faculties, and the poacher by gradually lifting the fish to the surface of the water, flings it suddenly on the bank of the river, and secures it as his prize. By this furtive practicefrom ten to twenty fine salmon-trout are taken in the course of a night, and disposed of by the robbers to the respectable families in the vicinity, who give an unjustifiable encouragement to the trespassers by purchasing the fruits of crime of them, as a table luxury, at the rate of from 9d. to 1s. per pound. By this means it is a marvel how a single fish is left to make a fair way to its spawning grounds.

But there is another illegitimate mode of destroying the above fish, which may be regarded in the light of wholesale murder. On the generality of the streams that immediately communicate with the estuaries on the Hampshire coast, are situated numerous corn mills. The fish have more danger to encounter in passing these tolls than any other they are

exposed to on their previous passage. The proprietors of these grinding establishments know full well the exact time when the salmon-trout will ascend the rivers to cast their spawn, and prepare traps to secure them on the occasion. These personages, when they perceive any quantity of these fish already inhabiting the "hatch hole" (a reservoir that is formed to receive the waste water from the river, when it is overflooded with water, and is situated just below the mill-pond, which feeds the mill), place a close-ribbed rack across the tail of the "hatch board" of an evening, and haul up the hatch that keeps back the water from this hole; the consequence is, that the water descends from the river on the "hatch board," and the fish in their attempt to leap and penetrate into the sluice torrent, are repelled back upon the flat hatch bed or board, and effectually secured within the rack. On the following morning almost every fish, that endeavoured to effect a passage into the mill-pond or river, has fallen a victim to the miller's dam. It frequently occurs that many prodigiously-fine eels are taken with the samlet, instinctively shifting their inland quarters to penetrate the estuaries. I have been credibly informed that from twelve to twenty brace of salmon and other trout, varying from two to four pounds in weight, have been taken by one miller in the course of a night, after the above man

ner.

CHARLEY SCUPPER'S RACING YACHT.

(Conclusion.)

CHAPTER XX.

Lonely and unhappy sat our hero, on a sultry summer's evening: his darling boy had been taken from him for the night, and placed in charge of his nurse. Charley had then endeavoured to find consolation in a volume he took from his late uncle's book-shelves; but the vengeance of the heavens seemed to deny him, for a time, any repose to his perturbed mind. In vain he drew down the windowblinds and closed the windows of his apartment: the vivid flashes of lightning insisted on penetrating every corner of the room; whilst the successive peals of thunder appeared like the awful voice of a commanding God, desiring all men to fall down on their knees, and acknowledge him supreme. The rain, besides, was pouring down as in a tropical clime, and bearing every moveable substance away in its torrents. It was just at the close of this storm, and whilst the distant echoes of the passing thunder might still be faintly heard upon the now-tranquil scene out of doors, that an attendant intruded upon Charley's privacy, and informed him a youth had just arrived, on horseback, in breathless haste, and wished to see him upon urgent business.

"Show him in immediately," said Charley.

An extremely fair-looking personage was then ushered into Charley's presence, who had the appearance of a young gentleman

of about sixteen; but remarkably shy and retiring in his manners, and speaking with a soft and feminine voice. The stranger wore a loose surtout, with dark-blue waistcoat and grey trowsers. His hair was jet-black and abundantly thick; hanging carelessly about his neck, which was encircled with a bit of black ribbon, neatly tied outside a shirt-collar which had lost all its stiffness in the storm. He held in his hand a light straw hat, and small riding-whip, and appeared to have been drenched to the skin in the recent storm; besides which, he was evidently fatigued, heated, and excited.

"Will you sit down?" said Charley, waving his hand towards a chair.

"Not until you recognize me, sir," said the youth.

"Your face is certainly familiar to me; but my treacherous memory fails to assist me to your name," said Charley.

"Look at me again," said the youth," and see if you cannot discover the features of a face once slightly familiar to you."

"Good heavens, yes! It is Clara's maid, Lucy!" said Charley, with much surprise.

"It is so," replied Lucy, bashfully, and turning her head to see that the door was closed.

"But why this disguise?" said Charley.

"I will tell you," replied the maid; "but first let me ask you for a little sherry. I am quite faint and exhausted."

In a moment Charley brought her, with his own hand, the refreshment she asked, and begged her to state what else he could provide for her.

"Thank you, Mr. Scupper-nothing else, I assure you, until I have revealed the object of this mysterious visit."

"But tell me first-is Miss Littleborough well?" said Charley, with intense anxiety.

"Thank God! she is," said Lucy; "but, sir, she is miserably unhappy!"

"Miserably unhappy! and why?" he inquired.

"Because that, within twenty-four hours from this time, she will be the wife of a man she hates from her very soul."

"But how is that?" inquired Charley-" Clara Littleborough going to marry a man she hates!"

Aye; and there is but one man on this earth can prevent it," replied Lucy, firmly.

Aye!" said Charley, thoughtfully.

"My darling young mistress is going to sacrifice body and soul, to gratify the wishes and pride of her mother. She is going to marry Sir Reginald Runwall."

"Runwall! d-n the fellow! She hates him. I have heard her tell her mother so to her face!" said Charley, much excited; but quickly recovering his self-possession, he added, "But who sent you here?"

"No one," replied Lucy: "I came entirely of my own accord. No soul knows of this visit but yourself. I am so dreadfully unhappy about my dear, dear Miss Clara, that I could not rest until I had made known to you the true state of her mind; for it is you, sir, and you only, who have, and have always had, her heart. You, and

no one else, can ever make her happy. She will die within three months, if she marries Sir Reginald Runwall. Having now told you the object of my visit, I implore you to see her, and save her from her fate. She is worthy of you, as she ever was; and, if you are unmarried, I beseech you, fly to her rescue!"

"I will!" said Charley, with a firm and determined voice. "Never, never shall she sacrifice herself to him! I will stab him first."

"Oh, pray be calm, sir! let no blood be spilt. The sight of a dagger would terrify Sir Reginald. But you need not fear. That voice and gesture are alone sufficient; and already I feel my heart much lighter than for many a day; well knowing, as I do, the certain success which attends those words-I will! ' "

"Tell me, Lucy-how long has she been engaged to this man,

and all about it?"

"Well, sir, when we were on the continent, and staying at Naples, he came there, apparently accidentally, in a very fine yacht; and, after daily and constantly pressing his suit, by some unaccountable means he induced her to consent to marry him. Mrs. Littleborough was delighted; and, though she knows her daughter hates him, she nevertheless pretends not to be aware of her dislikes, but, on the contrary, tells people they are warmly and mutually attached to each other. I did not know the dislike was so great until very lately, when she opened her whole heart to me, and told me, with bitter grief, she hated him, and was going to sacrifice herself to her mother's vanity; and she said also, with a painful sigh, she should not long survive a match so repulsive to her feelings. And I assure you, sir, she was looking so well and happy, until this mother's fancy-man came and made her miserable."

"Do you not think Mrs. Littleborough invited Sir Reginald to Naples?" inquired Charley.

"Well, there," said Lucy, as if a new feature in the case had just dawned upon her, "upon my word, sir, now you mention it, I suspect she did; for she was always in receipt of private letters from England, which she never showed to any one; and I remember the anxiety with which she used to inquire about the yachts at Naples, before the Doningale' arrived."

"What says her brother to the affair?" asked Charley.

"The fact is, sir, he thinks and believes that Miss Clara is really attached to Sir Reginald; and, indeed, so would any but a close observer. You are aware Mr. Thomas is married, of course, sir?" "Oh yes," replied Charley-"I read the announcement in the

newspaper.

"Such a happy couple!" said Lucy, feelingly.

"I suppose so," replied Charley. "But now, time is precious; and it is cruel for me to keep you here in those wet clothes. You will now retire to another room, and make yourself comfortable."

"Not on any account," replied the maid. "I must instantly return; and no soul but yourself must ever know of this visit and this disguise. Miss Clara would never forgive me, if she knew it. Mrs. Littleborough would send me to prison; and Sir Reginald would hire an assassin to kill me."