from a more orthodox atmosphere. But before giving it full
credence, I should like to know whether the children, when they
called "Rob Roy!" stood where the eel could see the spoon.

On the other side of the question, we may quote Mr. Ronalds, also a
Scotchman, and the learned author of THE FLY-FISHER'S ENTOMOLOGY,
who conducted a series of experiments which proved that even trout,
the most fugacious of fish, are not in the least disturbed by the
discharge of a gun, provided the flash is concealed. Mr. Henry P.
Wells, the author of THE AMERICAN SALMON ANGLER, says that he has
"never been able to make a sound in the air which seemed to produce
the slightest effect upon trout in the water."

So the controversy on the hearing of fishes continues, and the
conclusion remains open. Every man is at liberty to embrace that
side which pleases him best. You may think that the finny tribes
are as sensitive to sound as Fine Ear, in the German fairy-tale, who
could hear the grass grow. Or you may hold the opposite opinion,
that they are


"Deafer than the blue-eyed cat."


But whichever theory you adopt, in practice, if you are a wise
fisherman, you will steer a middle course, between one thing which
must be left undone and another thing which should be done. You
will refrain from stamping on the bank, or knocking on the side of
the boat, or dragging the anchor among the stones on the bottom; for
when the water vibrates the fish are likely to vanish. But you will