The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1904-07-20

spring house and singing like a lark
the while. Her pink calico frock was
turned up high in front, 50 high her
feet were plainly visible pretty feet
enough, in spite of the scuffed shoes,
smallish, well arched and light STEP
ping, to say nothing of the slender
ankles above them. The ankles match
ed taper wrists, but gave no hint OF
the dimple swelling arms revealed by
sleeves rolled halfway TO the shoulder.
Big, soft, new LEAKAGE flung down
variable shadows ON her bare head
She kept the dasher moving merrily,
now and again patting one foot in
time to it. Her voice, If unframed, was
clear and not too loud-altogether, the
man coming down the creekside In
high wading boots, with a rod in his
hand, a creel slung from his shoulder,
would have been justified in finding
himself glad of her presence.
He was distinctly not glad = cur
mudgeonly fellow! He had been whip
ping the stream for trout since sunrise
with no luck at all. All his hope was
conferred upon the cool, deep hole Just
below the spring house. lie knew the
stream of old, and that particular
reach of it had never yet failed to give
him good sport. Why must this crea'
ture go spoil his chances with her idiot
ic trill.ng? Fish had sensitive ears
he was certain of it. Nothing would
rise to the most tempting lure after
such affronting of tie auricular sense.
George, / wish she was in-HalifaX!'
he said to himself as he prepared, rath-
err hopelessly, for cast. He had hard
ly looked toward the singer-besideS
Robin Adiar, with an accompaniment
OF whishing, buttermilk rather got on
his nerves. As the song kept up he
called over his shoulder, in anything,
but an amiable voice: ts@# r,.ss
Madam, will pay you double price
for the butter you are churning if you
will go away until afternoon and let
me fish in peace"
"Indeed you won'tr Jess retorted,
with the least toss of the head. '''Tend
to your own business, Mr.. Fisherman.
1 promise you I'll tend strictly to
mine. Buy my butter, indeed! Sup
pose 1 don't want to sell it? And ]
don't It's going into cake for the pic
ME tomorrow"
The fisherman, Allan Beckley by
name, scowled at his image in the Wa
ter and swore-under his breath. He
knew landmarks and land lines there
about-this noisy girl must belong to
the people who had bought his uncle's
place. Vaguely he recalled the name
Wilmot. Wilmot possessions came
right down to the waters edge. albeit
the stream proper belonged TO old
Squire Dass, from whom he had leased
exclusive fishing privilege. The churn-
err was clearly upon her own ground.
Therefore unIssailable. In high bad
humor lie sisiasked across the pool
head and sent Lis fly Spinning out in a
tremendous cast from the opposite
bank, although by all rules of angling
the place was hopeless.
1t must lave been day for the
traverS;nG Of art and rule. The ny
was hardly settled before. with Wig
orous uDswiriing rush, a monster trout
took it. For the next ten minutes AL
Ian Eeck.ey Wis conscious of nothing
but his quarry. The quarry was game
and wary us ever rose to fly. Up.
down, athwart stream he darted, diT
ing, plunging, now and again leaping
clear Of the water, coming with such a
rush backward the singing reel could
not take up the slack, wheeling to bore
hcadfirst against the rocky. bottom so
strongly tie plant rcd tip bent almost
double. The fisherman stood just be-
,ow n high shelving bank. He would
have plunged in the water but that
there WAS no good foothold. Cautious
~. with nice judgment and sportsman
skill, he played Ills catch. 1t was one
to rejoice in--tEe giant of all trout in
Clear creek. Five pounds at the very
least. Idly he began to speculate if it
might not be the same willy fellow who
lad so often outwitted him when he
was native STRIPPING. His Ill humor
evaporated magically. He was at
peace with himself and the world.
The trout was weakening. Though
he still fought gamely. the PUSHES were
less electric. In five minutes more-in
three-in one-with long steady
pressure he drew the fighting creature
to the bank, shifted his rod deity and
made to slip the landing net under
meath. And then-and then! Some
thing gave way under and behind
him. With a huge splash he went
down into four feet of water, with
ton of loosened rock at his back. He
Hmm mt hfc IN HI
The trout, as the line Stacked, dashed
madly away and went to the bottom
upon the farther side But he could
not break loose the hook nor .instantly
chafe the line in two against the bot
tom. There was still a bare chance
Of him. Beckley, bruised and shaken
though he was, tried to turn about.
snatch his rod and fight the battle to
the bitter end. &
He could not do 1t. Somehow the
falling rocks had jammed his feet
into creyice of the bottom. beyond
his power to pull them out He tug
sed and strained and swore this time
for some, minutes. He was
not in the least hurt. His feet had
room a-plenty in their rocky channel
but he could not get them out until
The stone was moved from over It,
He had forgotten the girl. singing and
,hurning at the spring house. but re-
her now. noting both
sounds had ceased. He was on the
point of calling to her when he caught
| fash of pink on the farther bank
md heard her say with sparkling
Malice: "How do you like it, gettin'
aught yourself? Amt you ready to
ry quits with the big trout?"
How do you know / caught himr'
seckley retorted. The girl shrugged
Ter shoulders the least bit. 81 watch
d you-to wish you bad luck-yOu
we're so rude" she said. And rs she
aid 1t he noted that neither accent
Tor information was rustic. He looked
It her appealingly. 1T was rude-a
'erfect BRUTE" he said. do please
orgiye me and go fetch somebody to
lelp me out of this"