She brought him nearer.
Swimming parallel with the boat, he was plainly visible from his wide-opened mouth--the hook and fly protruding from his lower jaw--to the red, quivering flanges of the tail.

His sides were faintly speckled, his belly white as chalk.

He was almost as long as Condy's forearm.
"Oh, he's a beauty! Oh, isn't he a beauty!" murmured Condy.

"Now, careful, careful; bring him up to the boat where I can reach him; e-easy, Blix.

If he bolts again, let him run." Twice the trout shied from the boat's shadow, and twice, as Blix gave him his head, the reel sang and hummed like a watch-man's rattle.