Fanny watched Mr Maclean with great curiosity, as, at length having reached a spot where, the breeze playing over the surface, he expected the fish to rise, he began to throw the little fly at the end of his long line. Now he made it skim the water from one side to the other, now he drew it towards him, always keeping it in motion, just as a real fly would play over the surface. On a sudden there was a splash, and for an instant the head of a fish was seen above the surface, and the tip of the light rod bending, the line ran rapidly out of his reel. The laird began at length to wind up the line, in vain the poor fish swam here and there, it could not get the sharp hook out of its mouth. Sandy, laying in his oars, got the landing-net ready. The rod was so light that it could not have borne the weight of the fish, but by putting the net beneath it he easily lifted it into the boat. "Oh, what a fine fish," exclaimed Fanny, as she examined the large loch trout which had been caught; "what delicate colours it has! How beautifully it is marked on the back!" "We must get a few more, though, to make up our dish," said Mr Maclean, getting his line ready for another throw. A second unwary trout was soon caught, and a third, and a fourth. "I should like to fish too," exclaimed Norman. "Won't you let me have your long stick and string, Mr Maclean? It seems very easy, and I am sure I should soon catch some." The laird laughed heartily. "You are more likely to tumble into the water, and then we should have to catch you, young gentleman," he answered. "It will take a good many years before you can throw a fly, let me tell you." Norman was not convinced. "I'll get Sandy to row me out some day." "He is welcome to do that; but remember, you must not be tumbling overboard." "I can take very good care of myself," answered Norman, folding his arms, and trying to look very grand. A broad grin came over the countenance of Sandy, who knew enough of English to understand him. He nodded to his master. "If he comes with me I will take gude care of the child, and maybe he will catch a big trout some day; and you will come, young lady, and I will teach you to catch fish too," he said, turning to Fanny. "Oh, I am sure I should not like to ran a hook into their mouths, it must hurt them so dreadfully," answered Fanny. "They are given to us for food, my little girl," observed Mr Maclean, "and most conscientiously I believe they suffer no real pain, and although the instinct of self-preservation makes them wish to escape, I doubt even whether they are frightened when they feel the hook in their mouths." Still Fanny was incredulous, and thought she should never agree with the laird on that point. "I do not care whether the fish are hurt or not if I want to catch them," observed Norman, showing his usual indifference to the feelings of others, whether human beings or animals.