THE FISHING DAY 63 



first glint of it comes perhaps the finest sensation 

 of the day. Some men save a morsel of time at 

 this moment by being quite ready, the line being 

 threaded through the rings and the cast with the 

 fly or flies attached to it. I do not blame them at 

 all. Time was when I would have gone even farther 

 and extended line as I crossed the meadow so as 

 to hasten events by a few seconds. But now I 

 think I prefer the slight check that comes by not 

 having made the final arrangements. Very oc- 

 casionally it happens that I become aware that the 

 rise has begun the moment I get to the water, and 

 then there is a delightful feeling of running a race 

 with time. Perhaps, one feels, one of these early 

 morning rises of which one has heard may have 

 happened and this may be the tail-end of it. But 

 at the same time the alarm is not too acute. There 

 is underneath a comforting conviction of the proba- 

 bility of being busy for a good many hours. 



Of course if you are late on the water it is different. 

 Once I remember getting to the Itchen about noon 

 and finding the rise well on. I caught the first 

 three trout that I covered all in a few minutes, and 

 then every movement ceased. There was nothing 

 more to be done all day till the evening rise began. 

 On another less prosperous occasion I got to the 

 Kennet at Hungerford in what should have been 

 good time, about ten o'clock, to see what I verily 



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