CLEAR WATERS 



write, with the jfly that captured him decorating the 

 spot where he was hooked, I may tell of the adventure, 

 albeit another man's, with a clear conscience. My 

 friend was bred a fisherman from youth up in that 

 noble county of Brecon, upon the banks of the Wye 

 and Yrfon. I was very glad to have been the indirect 

 means of providing him with one of those adventures 

 with which fortune seems to favour him, and that 

 he is well qualified not to let slip. For on the occasion 

 in question — only the other day, in fact — he was fishing 

 some private water near Coupland castle, up the Glen, 

 and above the habitat of the grayling. Being August, 

 and the trout, though the water was in condition, 

 proving sulky, the moving of a sea trout prompted 

 him to put on a small sea-trout fly. Shortly after- 

 wards he rose and hooked, as it so proved, in the side, 

 and much nearer the gills than the tail, what he soon 

 took for granted to be a salmon. The Glen here is a 

 small stream readily commanded by an average length 

 of line on a ten-foot rod, which was in fact on this 

 occasion my friend's weapon. The scene of action 

 was tolerably open, though with bushes here and 

 there on the very considerable stretch over which the 

 battle was waged. He soon saw that he had some- 

 thing like a ten-pounder on, and quickly discovered 

 that it was hooked in the side, a pretty formidable 

 prospect in a small stream not free of bushes with light 

 tackle. The encounter lasted an hour and a half. 

 The fish leaped continually. Once he jumped clean 

 into the middle of an alder bush, and by the mercy 

 of providence, who watches over the fortunate to whom, 

 like my friend, are granted great adventures, fell 

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