THE CUNNING OF TROUT 



IT is possible for a vast aggregate of thinking 

 to be performed around a particular problem with- 

 out advancing its solution. Thus, on the first 

 brilliant Saturday afternoon in March ever since 

 the close of the ice age the goodly army of anglers 

 have turned a willing mind to the great question 

 of fish. From then till October, throughout all 

 the intervening ages, they have speculated on fish, 

 told stories about fish, and even lied about fish. 

 They have fondly rolled their agile conceptions 

 of fish into and out of every corner of their crania. 

 They have despised and mistrusted their fellow - 

 men who are in imperfect sympathy with fish ; 

 and even the angling peasants of Cumberland 

 looked down with lofty contempt upon Wordsworth 

 because, as one of them put it, " there wasn't a 

 bit o' fish in him." Yet, notwithstanding all this, 

 the psychology of trout remains in a backward 

 state. Indeed, it is highly probable, though not 

 subject to proof, that neolithic man, after a day 

 of it on the river with hooks made out of thorns, 

 black or white, said precisely the same things 

 about trout as are said to-day by every little 

 assembly of fishers gathered at a wayside station 

 to await the last train. He paid his tribute to 



