Excerpt from Days on the Nepigon
Before starting up the river, we will relate an incident and register a promise. The first thing attracting our attention after leaving the railway station at Nepigon village was a string of speckled trout basking in the sun and dirt on the porch of the tavern opposite. There were eight, the largest one weighing possibly a pound and a half. Presently a tall, rather distinguished looking gentleman came forward, and with a pocket-scale weighed the largest one. We caught a glimpse of the graduate on the scale; it registered one and a half pounds, including dirt. "Well," said the rather distinguished looking gentleman, "he's a two-pounder, all right."
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