EOD FISHIlsrG OFF THE ISLE OF MAK 



BY E. G. S. 



IKE many of our pleasures, that of angling is 

 enhanced by anticipation, and by retrospect. 

 What angler, whilst making his way to the 

 river side, has not thought, " Now I'm sure to get a 

 monster to-day;" "I know that this fly will be a 

 killer, and that I shall make a capital basket," and 

 other equally consoling and flattering things of the 

 same nature ? How often has the monster never 

 come, or if he has come, has gone ? — gone with some 

 six or seven feet of very carefully selected casting 

 line, which you had boastingly said was, " though fine as 

 gossamer, strong enough to hold a horse," — gone too 

 with three of the favourite flies which were to do such 

 wonders. But on some cold winter's evening, in the 

 company of a genial friend, you narrate your fishing 

 experiences, and allude to the particular day when you 

 were " broken " by " that big fish." How you then enjoy 

 the retrospect, your pipe and glass become pleasanter 

 as you conjure up scenes of many days past, and together 

 compare notes until the solitary stroke ol the clock on the 

 mantel-shelf tells you that "the wee short hours" have 

 come, and that it is time that you "turned in." 



