willows and alders, a cold stream entered the lake, and right in the mouth of it the trout were lyin’ as thick as your fingers.  They were fine little fellows as I ever happened to see, weighing about a quarter of a pound each.  I had a hook or two, and a piece of twine in my pocket, but they were of no sort of use in common fishin’, for I had no kind of bait, and couldn’t get any.  After thinking the matter over, I concluded I’d see if I couldn’t bag some of them in a quiet way.  So I cut me a long pole, tied the hook and line to the end of it, and reaching out over the water, dropped quietly down among them.  I let the line drift gently up against the one I wanted.  He didn’t seem to mind it, but was rather pleased as the line tickled his sides.  After letting it lay there a moment, I jerked suddenly, and up came the trout clean over my head on to the flat rock behind me.  However this might have astonished him, it didn’t seem to disturb the rest.  In that way I caught all I wanted, and could have caught a bushel.  It isn’t a very science way of fishin’, but it answers when a man is hungry, and hasn’t got any bait or fly.”

“I scarcely know why,” said the Doctor, “but Cullen’s account of catching his trout, reminds me of a circumstance which occurred when I was a boy, and which for the moment made a deal of sport.  I have not probably thought of it in twenty years, but it comes to me now as fresh as though it were the occurrence of yesterday.  It must be, as Hank Wood said the other day, that a thing which gets fairly anchored in a man’s mind, remains there always, and covered up as it may be by other and later things, it can never be forgotten.  It will come drifting back on the current of memory, fresh and palpable as ever.

“Everybody understands, or ought to understand, how sheep are washed.  A small yard is built on the bank of a stream adjacent to a deep place.  One side of which is open to the water, and into which the flock is crowded.  The washers take their places in the water, where it is three or four feet deep, and the sheep are caught by others, and tossed to them, where they undergo ablution (an operation by the way, that they do not seem altogether to enjoy), to wash the dirt and gum from their fleeces.  On such occasions, it is regarded as a lawful thing, a standing and ancient practical joke, to pitch any outsider, who may happen to indulge his curiosity by stopping to look on, into the stream.  If he is verdant, he will be very likely to be inveigled into the yard, and in an unguarded moment, be made to take an involuntary dive, head foremost into the water.