Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1906-12-25

In our travels over the region so far,
we haven't yet touched Little Concord,
and Little Concord is entitled to q large
amount of attention, not only for it's
present status, but most emphatically
for its past. :.
Little Concord is small pond situated
deep among the hills, 80 that it is in.
visible from even the tops of some OF
the nearby mountains. Its outlet runs
into Big Concord, but the common and
easiest way of reaching it is from the
other side of the divide, by trail run
ming from the road near Shagg Pond,
about three-quarters of mile through
low pass.
This trail is to the genuine fisherman
"a the road toward Mecca to the devout
Mussulman. No fisherman to whom the
place is accessible can feel that he has
taken his final degree and is entitled to
sit with the brethren until he has spent
at least day fishing in Little Concord,
and still better is it if he has spent the
night there in camp.
And as it is not all of fishing merely
to fish, so it is not always all of fishing
in Little Concord to cast the fly. Peo-
pie have been known to catch fish there.
Indeed, some have declared that they
have caught two fish there in one day.
When a man says that, If he Is man OF
absolute honesty, so honest that he
wouldn't cheat q railroad if he had a
chance, believe him; and in any event,
gaze on him with wonder and admira-
ton. For be 1t known, Little Concord
| is not designed for those who measure
fishing by the size of the catch, but the
purpose 1t serves is to cultivate the
spirit of the true sportsman, who fishes
| for the sake of fishing, and not merely
to catch fish.
And be it also known, that In the deep,
cold waters Of Little Concord there
dwells Phantom-a five pound trout.
Perhaps 1t would be better to say
that he makes his headquarters In Little
Concord, for he is not always there.
Sometimes he is over in Abbott Pond ;
sometimes he is in Washburn; possibly
he may occasionally be In Big Concord ;
and once In a great while he gets into
Shagg.
That's great story, you say? Straight
goods, my boy. Take your roo and fly
book and 20 into that country. Before
you have been there long the legend OF
the five-pound trout will come to you.
It may come from some resident of the
vicinity, or from the birds Of the forest,
or 1t may be in the ART really seems
as If it were. And accompanying it will
be weird tales of the catches that were
made steenty years ago. And you will
take up your rod and 60 after the Phan-
tom.
Can you not in your minds eye see the
Phantom-the patriarch of the watersP
He weighs just five pounds, never more,
never less, and as BELTS his great age,
around his gills is flowing white beard.
In the darkness of the hours when sub
stantial beings sleep he flits through the
air from pond to pond, and in his flight
he visits the camp of the fisherman and
draws his flowing beard ever so lightly
over the face of the sleeper. And the
fisherman, In the visions Of his head
upon his bed Of boughs, secs the Phsn-
tom and on the morrow goes forth to
seek 1t yet again.
It's too bad to come down from
romance to something that smacks OF
reality, but the theory Is held by some
that when these ponds were stocked &C