“Your language is strong, my friend.  The late Mr. William Basse, as you designate him, would not have condescended to the use of such terms.”

“Faith, the language isn’t made that’s too bad for Ortonville.  You’ve got a big one this time, Wilks, my boy—­play him!”

The dominie succeeded in bringing in his fish, a big fellow, between a pound and a-half and two pounds in weight, on which he gazed with delight, as the lawyer unhooked it, and deposited it, with a smart rap on the head, at the bottom of the canoe.

“Is that a trout, Corry?” the Dominie asked with eager pride.

“No; it’s not a brook or speckled trout, for it has no speckles, and it’s not a relative of the late William Basse, for it isn’t deep enough in the body, nor a perch, for it’s too big and has no stripes.  It’s either a salmon trout or a pickerel, Wilks.”

“Is there not some fable about the latter fish?”

“Yes; old Isaac says that it’s produced from the pickerel weed, the Pontederia, that should be coming into flower about now.  I haven’t seen any yet.  There’s another, for me this time—­ugh, it’s only a perch.”

The schoolmaster, emboldened by success, declared that he was too cramped, and, gathering his legs together, while he held on to the sides of the dug-out, succeeded in grasping the top of the deep-sea mooring.  Then, with the other hand, he raised the board, and transferred it to the gunwale.  Sitting upon the improvised seat with his back to the bow, he expressed satisfaction at facing his companion, for one thing, and at being out of the way of the fish in the canoe, for another.  Coristine followed suit, and, when his plank was in position, said he felt something like old Woodruff in a small way.

“How is that?” asked the inquisitive dominie.

“He’s a director in ever so many institutions, and is always out, sitting on boards.  I have only one so far; as Shakespeare says, it’s a poor one, but mine own.”

“Tut, tut,” replied his disgusted friend; “more desecration.”

Nevertheless he smiled, as a thought came into his mind, and he remarked that the vessel was rather a small concern to have two boards of direction; to which the lawyer answered that it was no worse off in that respect than the Province of Quebec, or the Church, or the universities, which could not trust one governing body to do their work.

“I have another, a large fish,” shouted the schoolmaster, wildly excited and rising to his feet.  The fish pulled hard up stream till the whole extent of line and rod combined was out at arm’s length.  Eager to secure the prey, and thinking nothing of the precarious foundation on which he stood, he placed a foot upon the gunwale in order to reach still farther out.