how bright your spots are!" he cried, as he gave him the stroke of
grace. "You really have been a brave and fine fellow. I hope they will
know how to fry you."

While he cut his fly out of this grand trout's mouth, he felt for the
first time a pain in his knee, where the point of the stake had entered
it. Under the buckle of his breeches blood was soaking away inside his
gaiters; and then he saw how he had dyed the water. After washing the
wound and binding it with dock-leaves and a handkerchief, he followed
the stream through a few more meadows, for the fish began to sport
pretty well as the gloom of the evening deepened; so that by the time
the gables of the old farm-house appeared, by the light of a young moon,
and the comet, Lorraine had a dozen more trout in his basket,
silvery-sided and handsome fellows, though none of them over a pound
perhaps, except his first and redoubtable captive.

A DANE IN THE DIKE

From 'Mary Anerley'

Now, whether spy-glass had been used by any watchful mariner, or whether
only blind chance willed it, sure it is that one fine morning Mary met
with somebody. And this was the more remarkable, when people came to
think of it, because it was only the night before that her mother had
almost said as much.

"Ye munna gaw doon to t' sea be yersell," Mistress Anerley said to her
daughter: "happen ye mought be one too many."

Master Anerley's wife had been at "boarding-school," as far south as
Suffolk, and could speak the very best of southern English (like her
daughter Mary) upon polite occasion. But family cares and farm-house
life had partly cured her of her education, and from troubles of
distant speech she had returned to the ease of her native dialect.

"And if I go not to the sea by myself," asked Mary, with natural logic,
"why, who is there now to go with me?" She was thinking of her sadly
missed comrade, Jack.

"Happen some day, perhaps, one too many."

The maiden was almost too innocent to blush; but her father took her
part as usual.

"The little lass sall gaw doon," he said, "wheniver sha likes." And so
she went down the next morning.

A thousand years ago the Dane's Dike must have been a very grand
intrenchment, and a thousand years ere that perhaps it was still
grander; for learned men say that it was a British work, wrought out
before the Danes had ever learned to build a ship. Whatever, however,
may be argued about that, the wise and the witless do agree about