The laird rowed on for some distance, till he came to the spot where he proposed fishing. He then put his rod together, and told Norman to watch what he did, that he might imitate him as soon as he had a rod of his own. "I must get a nice light one which you can handle properly," observed the laird kindly. "Oh, but I think I could hold yours, it does not seem very heavy," said Norman. "You might hold it upright, but you could not move it about as I do, and certainly you could not throw a fly with it," answered Mr Maclean. "However, I like to see a boy try to do a thing. It is only by trying that a person can succeed. But trying alone will not do, a person must learn his alphabet before he can read; unless he did so, he might try very hard to read, and would not succeed. In the same way you must learn the a, b, c of every handicraft, and art, and branch of knowledge, before you can hope to understand or accomplish the work. The a, b, c of fly-fishing is to handle your rod and line, and I must see you do that well, before I let you use a hook, with which you would otherwise only injure yourself or any one else in the boat." "But I should feel so foolish throwing a line backwards and forwards over the water," answered Norman, "I should not like that." "You would be much more foolish throwing it backwards and forwards and not catching anything," remarked the laird. "Will you follow my advice or not? I want your answer." "I will do as you wish me," said Norman, after some hesitation. "Then I will teach you how to become a fly-fisher, and perhaps another year when you pay me a visit, you will be able to catch as many fish as I am likely to do this evening." The good laird had now got his tackle in order, and applied himself to the sport, telling Norman to sit quiet in the stern. Norman watched him eagerly. "I cannot see what difficulty there is," he said to himself. "I think in ten minutes or so I should be able to make the fly leap about over the water just as well as he does. Ah! he has caught a fish, I should like to do that! I must try as soon as he will let me have a rod." The laird quickly lifted the trout into the boat, and in half-an-hour caught five or six more. It was now growing dusk, and observing that the fish would no longer rise, he wound up his line, and again took to his oars. They soon reached the shore. Norman begged that he might be allowed to carry the fish, which the laird had strung through the gills with a piece of osier which he cut from the bank. Norman felt very proud as he walked away with the fish, persuading himself that he had had some part in catching them. They were, however, rather heavy, and before he reached the house his arms began to ache. He felt ashamed of acknowledging this, but continued changing them from hand to hand. The laird observed him, and with a smile, asked if he should take them. Norman was very glad to accept his offer.