170 Sporting Sketches in Pen and Pencil. 



Our old friend, howeyer, once wrote in his copybook "Pamiliarity breeds 

 contempt," so be tries yet anotber line of invitation to tbe besitating 

 fisb, and if a woman wbo besitates is lost, so is a grayling. Familiarised 

 witb danger, be is no longer deterred. He opens his mouth and " snaps " — 

 Mabet ! 



Now, mark our old friend's skill. To every movement of the fisb he 

 gives gracefully; for a big grayling is like a woman, you must not 

 check her till she is landed. Give her her head, let her run riot even, 

 so that you simply keep the book in her cheek, and, flounce she never 

 so much, a time will come when she'll get tired of saying " I won't," and you 

 may begin to shorten in line and persuade her to come " a little this way." 

 " This way, gently ; don't tire yourself, my angel, pray don't ! " "What is 

 that nasty thing, a net? " "Oh no, fie for shame ! " "A net, no ! only 

 a ring ! Come, let me slip it over the loveliest — bah, safe at last ! Now, 



young woman, none of that flouncing I Just you behave well, or " 



'Pon my word, courtship is very like fly fishing, and they run in a 

 parallel, now don't they ? Odd one never noticed that before. Fishermen 

 should be skilful flirts ; and, by the way, you remember that the " scholar " 

 began to practise upon Maudlyn at once; for that wary old Piscator, 

 who probably did not approve of his young friend's poaching upon bis 

 preserves, observeth, " Come, Scholar, let Maudlyn alone ; do not you offer 

 to spoil her voice," &c. " Spoil her voice, indeed ! Ob, you naughty old 

 man ! Ikey, Ikey, I'm fairly ashamed of you ! " Well, Mr. Propriety, 

 what have you got to say to it ? Because you choose to wear a sour phiz 

 are there to be no more cakes and ale ? I warrant me, faith, " and ginger 

 shall be hot i' the mouth, too." 



And once more our old friend steps into the stream and floats bis fancies 

 on the rippling eddies. There should l)e a good one on tbe edge of 

 that eddy. It looks a knowing sort of bole enough. Swoop, tbe fly 

 comes trailing round tbe eddy buried inches deep in tbe swirl, and, lo ! 

 once more tbe pliant timber doubles in bis grip. I saw no rise — nay, 

 nor was there visible break or boil of surface; but tbe line checked 

 for a brief half second in its sweep, and that was warning good to our 

 canny old performer. He knew full well that "wbo checks at me to 



