I would present that trout to Flora Knickerbocker! I would ask her to have the cook prepare it for her special delectation.
We emerged upon the lawn and sauntered up to the front of the house, where some half-dozen ladies were sitting on the long porch, doing worsted-work and reading novels.

I saw my charmer among them, and, as she looked up from the book she was reading, and shot at me a mischievous glance from those thrilling eyes, I felt my coolness melting at the most alarming rate.
How I envied the easy, careless grace with which my friend sauntered up to the group! Why should I not be as graceful, as easy?
I would make a desperate effort to "assume a virtue if I had it not." I, too, sauntered elegantly, lifted my hat killingly, and approached my charmer just as if I didn't realize that I was turning all the colors of the chameleon.
"Miss Knickerbocker," I began, "will you deign to accept the champion trout of the season ?" The string of glistening fish hung from the fine patent rod which I carried over my shoulder.

I never could undo the tangle of how it all came about; but, in my embarrassment, I must have handled things not quite so gracefully as I intended--the line had become unwound, and the hook dangling at the end of it as I attempted to lower the rod caught in my coat collar behind, and the more I tugged the more it would not come out.

I flushed and jerked, and tried to see the back of my head, while the ladies smiled encouragingly, rendering me more and more desperate, until I gave a fearful twitch, and the barb came flying out and across the porch, striking a prim maiden lady on the head.
More and more confused, I gave a sudden pull to relieve the lady, and succeeded in getting a very queer bite indeed.

At first I thought, in my horror, that I had drawn the whole top of the unfortunate spinster's head off; but a second frightened look showed me that it was only her scalpette, or false front, or whatever the dear creatures call a half-wig, all frizzes and crimps.