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FISHES.
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through Glendale, and loses itself in the sluggish Till.

"In the parching summer of 1826, I frequently retired with a book to a shady little retreat on the bank of this river, to spend a few hours in contemplative indolence, where, by a mill-dam fifty feet wide, with a sloping shore of fine sand receding into four feet depth of water, a little sort of fish-parlour was formed by a projecting willow, reaching several feet across the upper end. The spot I soon observed was tenanted by one large Trout, who played the tyrant to admiration,—saving that his sentences were always either annihilation or banishment, for there was no torture. When I sat quite still he did not appear to see me, and came so near that I could count the crimson speckles on his side, and see the inhalations and exhalations of his gills. The grace of his motions, when he moved from his station to see what was disturbing the surface of the water (a fly, or bit of palm-down), was beautifully contrasted with the violence with which he repelled every intruder upon his imperial territory. He flew at the victim like a bull-dog; but as I never saw him meet with his match, or one that would stand fight, I can form no opinion of his knight-errantry. He, however, allowed various sized Minnows to sport about the shore, his only food at this time appearing to be flies (who always fled at his approach to the shelter of the shore), and he did not condescend to eye these reserved victims of his appetite. This scene was repeated for many days together. But perhaps a more amusing one was that of a little Prickly-back [or Stickleback], a little knight armed cap-