One day in November the postman brought Uncle George a small wooden box. There were holes bored in the sides and top of it. The box, when opened, seemed to be filled with damp moss; but when some of this moss was removed there was found in the middle of the box a piece of folded muslin.
Hatching Bottle. A. Supply pipe. B. Exhaust pipe. C. Trout Eggs. Rearing Box. C. Perforated zinc tray to fit box.
Uncle George laid the muslin on the table, and opened it out. It contained a number of tiny pink balls, much smaller than peas.
“These are the trout eggs you promised to get for us, are they not?” said Frank.
“They are,” said Uncle George, “and we must put them into running water at once. I have a bottle here ready for them.”
Uncle George filled a wide-mouthed bottle with water from the tap and placed the eggs in it. He then corked it with a cork in which he had bored two holes.
Into each of the holes he had fitted a tube. One tube was long enough to reach almost to the bottom of the bottle. The other was bent over the outside of the bottle.
The straight tube was connected with the water tap by a piece of indiarubber tubing. He then turned the tap on gently, so that the water went in by the straight tube and came dripping out by the bent tube.
“Trout require a constant supply of fresh water,” he said. “Their eggs are usually laid in shallow streams.