THE WELSH DEE 



specimens of their unwelcome kind, though they be, 

 owners and committees wage more or less constant 

 war. The grayling here does not pay for his keep. 

 He will take your trout-fly occasionally in spring, 

 when he is of course out of condition, but for some 

 mysterious reason does not rise after the fashion of 

 his kind in autumn, when you want him to. Some 

 worm fishers may, for aught I know, take toll of the 

 Dee grayling. In years agone I remember a little 

 Yorkshireman who used to spend his September 

 holiday in their pursuit, wading up the half mile straight 

 of smooth gravelly glide that follows the salmon pool 

 under the noble old bridge at Corwen. He had not, 

 I think, great sport, but he got enough to keep his 

 family by his own account on a regular grayling diet 

 during their holiday, which must have sorely cloyed 

 them, unless they all shared his own enthusiasm 

 for their edible quaHties. For himself, he used to say 

 he devoured them ' roomp, stoomp, and 'ead.' I do 

 not go that far with him, though a grayling in con- 

 dition is a palatable fish. The sea trout which 

 jumped the weir above Llangollen and ran up in great 

 quantities were still more eccentric and were scarcely 

 ever taken with a rod. The salmon came up, sparsely 

 in spring, but in fair numbers with the autumn floods, 

 and rose reasonably through the ' back end,' though 

 not often in very good condition. Still, salmon-fishing 

 was a time-honoured institution on the Dee. Every 

 pool patronised by the king of fishes, from Corwen to 

 Llangollen, had its name, with sundry tall stories at- 

 tached to each. Many anglers came, and for the most 

 part with their families, who led the simple life in 



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