Royal coachman, black gnat, grizzly king, professor! If Calvin Coolidge never again has sport he will at least remember the summer of 1928 as the time when he learned his fly-book by heart, casting on the brown Brule stream. As July petered out and the level of the waters dropped a little in the dry weather, the Brule's inhabitants grew hungrier and hungrier. There came an evening when the President canoed home to Cedar Island Lodge with no less than 26 trout. This was one more than Wisconsin's legal limit but Wisconsin...
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