ISBN: 9781459085855

Book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1915. Excerpt: ... THRE… Plus…

Book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1915. Excerpt: ... THREE BOTTLES OF CLARET. It had been a delicious afternoon on Profile Lake; one of those days when the very glory of the other country seems to come down among our mountains. The little lake had presented, as usual on such evenings, a gay and brilliant scene. It was a lake of Paradise. A dozen boats were out with parties of ladies or with anglers, some of the latter fishing with floats and worms, some casting flies, and now and then getting up fair trout. I had passed the time after a fashion that is somewhat lazy and luxurious, lying at full length in the bottom of my boat, drifting idly around while I read an old book, occasionally sinking into a doze and dreaming. As evening came down the various parties left the lake, and at last in the twilight Dupont came up in his boat alongside of mine, and we found ourselves, as often before, alone on the lake. Among all my memories of trout-fishing there are none more pleasant than the memories of those evenings on Profile Lake, when my friend and I, with our boats at anchor a few rods apart, have cast our flies long after the darkness prevented our seeing their fall, and whether we got rises or not were content to see the stars come over the mountains, or the moonlight descend into the ravine and silver the surface of the lake. This evening was profoundly still; not a breath of air disturbed the leaf of a tree. One could hardly hope to find a Profile Lake trout so foolish as to take a fly on such a glassy surface. I was lazy and indolent, but Dupont was making long and steady casts, always graceful, and as sure as graceful. I paused and watched him. I could just see in the twilight the fall of his tail fly, some fifty feet away from his hand, as it touched the water close inshore under a great rock, and I felt in my own arm the thrill whi... William Cowper Prime, Books, History, I Go A-Fishing Books>History This is an OCR edition without illustrations or index. It may have numerous typos or missing text. However, purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original rare book from GeneralBooksClub.com. You can also preview excerpts from the book there. Purchasers are also entitled to a free trial membership in the General Books Club where they can select from more than a million books without charge. Original Published by: Harper & Brothers in 1915 in 376 pages; Subjects: Fishing; Sports & Recreation / Fishing; Technology & Engineering / Fisheries & Aquaculture;<

ISBN: 9781459085855

Book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1915. Excerpt: ... THRE… Plus…

Book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1915. Excerpt: ... THREE BOTTLES OF CLARET. It had been a delicious afternoon on Profile Lake; one of those days when the very glory of the other country seems to come down among our mountains. The little lake had presented, as usual on such evenings, a gay and brilliant scene. It was a lake of Paradise. A dozen boats were out with parties of ladies or with anglers, some of the latter fishing with floats and worms, some casting flies, and now and then getting up fair trout. I had passed the time after a fashion that is somewhat lazy and luxurious, lying at full length in the bottom of my boat, drifting idly around while I read an old book, occasionally sinking into a doze and dreaming. As evening came down the various parties left the lake, and at last in the twilight Dupont came up in his boat alongside of mine, and we found ourselves, as often before, alone on the lake. Among all my memories of trout-fishing there are none more pleasant than the memories of those evenings on Profile Lake, when my friend and I, with our boats at anchor a few rods apart, have cast our flies long after the darkness prevented our seeing their fall, and whether we got rises or not were content to see the stars come over the mountains, or the moonlight descend into the ravine and silver the surface of the lake. This evening was profoundly still; not a breath of air disturbed the leaf of a tree. One could hardly hope to find a Profile Lake trout so foolish as to take a fly on such a glassy surface. I was lazy and indolent, but Dupont was making long and steady casts, always graceful, and as sure as graceful. I paused and watched him. I could just see in the twilight the fall of his tail fly, some fifty feet away from his hand, as it touched the water close inshore under a great rock, and I felt in my own arm the thrill whi... William Cowper Prime, Books, History, I Go A-Fishing Books>History, General Books LLC<