THE INQLOSIOUS DEATH OF A THAMES TBOUT. 107 



For some few days previous to this occurrence we 

 had been trying for trout further up the river with fly, 

 bleak, minnow, and loach, but our efforts were too 

 clumsy or the fish too alert, as the result was nil; 

 although a trout of about 10 lb., at Pangbourne, did on 

 one occasion actually condescend to charge from the 

 middle of the river at the loach, only to return, alas ! 

 when he got his nose within a few inches of the bait j 

 so this was a particularly unfortunate time for any 

 trout to fall in with us, as revenge is sweet, even to 

 anglers, and more especially so when smarting under 

 the effect of disappointment and defeat. 



Upon the following day, which was as hot as the 

 previous, and it can be real hot at times in the Thames 

 Valley, we sallied forth upon our errand of destruction 

 armed with two fly-rods and a spinning-rod, also the 

 finest gut in our possession, and the firmest intention 

 to do our utmost to get 6 to 4 the best of our 

 scaly friends. 



We arrived at the place and were pleased to find the 

 fish all there in their old familiar positions, as if we 

 had left them but an hour ago; the only difference 

 being that they were a trifle further out in the stream, 

 so as to get the full benefit of the water which was 

 running rather more freely from the pipe. 



While crouching on the bank a white cabbage 

 butterfly settled on the grass in front of us, which we 

 managed to secure, and having given him or her 

 (we are not well versed in the sex of butterflies) a 



