DAYS IN DOVE DALE 57 



the mossy stones and rocks how daintily he 

 handled his fish when he had firmly hooked 

 him. He captured a fine grayling of i Ib. 3 ozs. 

 and a brace of trout after a morning of toil in 

 the broiling sun. 



My waning ardour was revived by this 

 piscatorial lesson, as I thought how I would 

 do the same, so in the evening we again 

 attacked " The Manifold " ; but I am singu- 

 larly unfortunate. At my first throw to wet 

 my line, I somehow got into a hopeless tangle 

 which took me a quarter of an hour to undo. 

 I then made another throw, and was firmly 

 fixed a good way up in an overhanging beech 

 tree ; this was most unlucky just at a time 

 when the trout were rising freely in front of 

 me, and one of them I had intended to cover 

 in that hapless throw. My gut gave way to 

 the bough, so my fishing for the evening 

 seemed to be over, for it was too dark to 

 fix up again ; but " necessity is the mother 

 of invention." I invented a way of recover- 

 ing flies suspended high up in an overhanging 

 branch, and I give it for the benefit of my 

 readers. 



I drew out my strong line to a little more 



