With a light fly-rod of four or five ounces, and corresponding tackle, and trout flies on hooks Nos. 5 to 7, the rock-bass is not a mean adversary. It rises to the various hackles, and to such flies as coachman, brown drake, gray drake, and stone fly, especially toward evening. The flies must be allowed to sink with every cast after fluttering them awhile on the surface. For bait-fishing a trout bait-rod of the weight just mentioned, with a reel of small caliber and the smallest braided silk line, will be about right. Sproat hooks Nos. 3 to 4 on light gut snells tied with red silk are the best. Live minnows about two inches long, carefully hooked through the lips, are to be lightly cast and allowed to sink nearly to the bottom and slowly reeled in again. Or if a float is used, the minnow may be hooked just under the dorsal fin. A small float is necessary when white grubs, crawfish, cut-bait, or worms are used as bait. On lakes it is readily taken by trolling with a very small spoon, about the size of a nickel, with a single Sproat or O'Shaughnessy hook No. 1 attached. A rod nine or ten feet long cut from the small end of a native cane pole, weighing but a few ounces, with a line of sea-grass or raw silk about the length of the rod, will answer very well for bait-fishing. This is the tackle mostly used by boys in the Middle West, and it might be profitably employed by boys of larger growth. A dozen "red-eyes," gleaming with green and gold, on the string of the boy angler, is something to be proud of. He gazes with fond admiration on the wide-open crimson eyes, which to him seem more precious than rubies. He admires the bristling fins, the gracefully sloping sides, the gaping mouth and forked tail, with boyish enthusiasm and appreciation. Although hot and tired, and with many a scratch and bruise on hands and feet, such trifles are lighter than air, and do not admit of a moment's consideration. Seated on a rock at the margin of the stream, with the string of fish in the water, he feasts his eyes on the finny beauties with the conscious pride of well-earned success and the happy culmination of his outing. In imagination the battles are all fought over and over again. He knows just where and under what condition and circumstance each fish was caught, as, with bare toes, he separates and indicates the individual on the string. That largest one was hooked under the dam beside the big rock. The next in size was taken among the roots of the old sycamore at the bend of the creek. Another and still another from the deep hole under the rocky cliff. Oh, the joyous days of youth and going a-fishing in the glad springtime of life! And then, having laved his swollen feet in the cooling stream, he washes the blood and scales from his hands, scrapes the mud and slime from his well-worn clothes, shoulders his lance of elm, and starts for home, bearing his trophies with as proud a mien as a warrior of old returning with the spoils of war.