Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1873-09-06

SIXTEENTH AMENDMENT.
A correspondent Of the Philadelphia
Post gives the following account Of
lady's trout-fshing with g Euphemia:
We now stumbled and scrambled
down the stream, trying our hies at ev-
cry pool and ripple. The woods COW
cred us with roof of green; the brook
nppled merrily beneath our feet, while
the beautiful laurel, decked with clus-
ters of splendid white blossoms, en-
closed us on either side. It was most
charming experience. But we got no
bites!
Euphy," said I, looking back,
struck by a sudden thought, lyon
must take off that red bow. It fright
ems the fish, and that must be the rea-
son we had no aites."
"Don't trouts like red ?" said she,
resting her rod in the most reckless
manner against bush, whilst she took
off the brilliant bow.
Anything bright frightens them, of
course" replied; "and I wish, Eu-
ply, you would not say trouts.' You
don't say sheeps,' do you?"
No." said she, jerking her line from
the bush, " but they go in focks--col-
lectively, you know-and the trouts
don't, at least not in the stream
Silence for five minutes; then, we
passed path of wet sand, Euphemia,
who was brought up on the Long Is
land coast, proposed that we should
stop and dig for clans. But this I
Indignantly declined.
just here thought had bite.
was almost sure of it-when Euphemia,
from some little distance, called out,
"Here! Quick! Whew-ewyw
PLAY him." cried. "Give him
line," and bounded over to the rocks
to her assistance. "Wait, Euphy, let
me pull him out"
wish you would" she said; "I
have run the old hook way into my fin
GER"
There were many little Interruptions
like this, most of them occasioned by
Euphemia's parasol; but, after while,
l impressed upon her mind that trout
would only bite amid the most profound
silence, and that she must put re-
straint upon herself; and I do believe,
after that, the dear creature made some
pretty bad slips without saying a word.
After time 1 came to a pool, and
was fishing very cautiously in it, whip
ping my fly about as artistically as the
business would permit, when Euphe-
mia crept up behind me.
John" she whispered, "I've got
one."
Where is it % said I, not daring
to look around, for I expected bite
every moment.
Hooked on my line," she said, in
voice trembling with excitement ;~'' will
you take it OFF,"
In just one minute" said, watch
ing my fly.
Its just like lobster, only small
er," she whispered.
I could not help looking around at
that. "Do you call that trout %
cried. " 1t is a craw6sh."
Bother" said Euphemia, "Ithought
there was nothing here but trouts -"
" Fish i'll this pool, Euphy," l said,
pitying the little confusion into which
the crawfish had thrown her, " and I'll
go farther down."
The place in which now fshed was
capital. There was ripple and deep
hole, and, what is more, q trout! saw
him jump at red fly Just before I
reached the spot. So, with bright
hopes 1 danced my fly over the water in
the deep hole. I danced it for about
fifteen minutes, and several times 1
thought l saw something rise up toward
my hook. At last fish seized it. I
jerked him out of the water, but he
dropped off. But I was not bit dis
couraged. If he was there, I could
catch him. Breathlessly awaiting an
other rise, heard wild scream from
behind. I turned instantly, and there,
was Euphemia in the pool!
l had her out in O moment.
II had bite, she said, when I had
soothed her little and seated her on a
rock, " and the stones were so slippery
that forgot, and went right in"
We now gave up fishing, and hurried
up the stream into tho sunlight. It
was impossible for Euphemia to go back
into the house in the plight she was.
For about a foot and a half from the
ground she was as wet, as she expressed
it, as ga sop" So we went to retired
field, and she sat in the sun until she
dried, turning herself about, while I
kept the sun off her face with her par
asol.
I don't think will take Euphemia
trout-6shing any more.
u A worthy Kentucky farmer being
asked if daughter recently married