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CHAPTER XXI. 



MAY-FLY FI8BIN0. 



With a few days^ leisure at our disposal at about the 

 end of May, we persuaded a friend to join in a fishing- 

 excursion to Derbyshire, intending to try our luck on 

 the Wye and Derwent, and see how those rivers com- 

 pared with others of our acquaintance, likewise the 

 style of fishing in vogue there. 



We arrived at Rowsley about 6 p.m., and by the 

 time we got settled down it was nearly 7 ; so, as fishing 

 is prohibited after 8, we agreed to content ourselves with 

 a saunter along the banks of the Wye, which flows within 

 a few yards of the Peacock Inn, well known to tourists 

 and anglers alike. 



The stretch of the Wye we intended to fish was up- 

 stream from Rowsley to Bakewell, a distance of over 

 three miles — very nearly four by road, and quite half as 

 long again by the waterside. 



The river meanders through grass meadows for this 

 distance, passing in its serpentine course at the foot of 

 Haddon Hall, which may have been constructed by a 

 previous generation to afford amusement to anglers 



