"Willingly," said Jean, "but with your permission I will not use the bamboo pole of which you speak, nor the fat worms. I also have a liking for fly-fishing, and I should like to enter the contest on equal terms. If you win, Monsieur, which is more than likely, I shall be glad to have you take as the spoils of war the arms of the vanquished. But as for eating boots, you will excuse me, Monsieur, if I have no appetite for that." "_Mon Dieu_, Monsieur Jean de St. Placide de St. Ange, but you have the true spirit of the olden time. And he fishes with a fly; the little habitant of the mountains uses the weapons of chivalry. Good! We shall have a tourney for trout, for glory, for the love of ladies. And I will overthrow you, so to speak, carry away your sword, your spear, your coat of mail, and put your name in my little book. Ha! ha! It will be sport indeed, and war--yes, war to the death. "But meanwhile, my good Jean, we are the best of friends, are we not? You do not mind my innocent persiflage, I am sure. It is but the effervescence of spirits too long confined in the narrow conventions of city life, a little bubbling over of froth on the top of good liquor. Were it not for that I should burst, I think, at the heart. Ah, the blessed country! What relief, what freedom, what recreation! But it occurs to me that a good sleep would be the best preparation for the struggle of the coming day. Is it not so, Jean? Madame, with your permission I will take my candle. Madame, I retire. I bid you good-night. Until four o’clock, Jean, my dear enemy." At four o’clock Jean aroused the City Man from a dreamless sleep; at half-past four they had breakfast; and an hour later they were setting up their rods by the St. Ange, at a place where the river was broad and a strong man could ford the stream. "This is where I usually begin," said Jean, "for it is a good place to cross. If you will take the other side you will find good fishing." "No doubt," said the City Man, "the fishing must be good over there since few men could cross that current. But I will take no advantage, my friend. You shall cross and I will fish on this side." "But no, Monsieur, you do not know the stream, as I do. Pass over, if you please." "Not at all, Jean, I will not. But wait. Let us toss a coin. Heads, you go across, tails, I go." "Tails," said Jean. "It is tails, Jean, so you have your way, after all. Well, here goes, my brave one. I will take the other side according to the hazard, and meet you somewhere above, later in the day. _Au revoir_, Jean." "_Au revoir_, Monsieur, and good luck to you." The City Man waded into the stream, and when he reached the middle, standing in three feet of swift water, he made a dexterous cast and immediately hooked a fine, half-pound trout. After a brief struggle he brought the fish to hand, and held it up with a shout of triumph.