io8 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



tempt the grayling to feast so greedily as to fail to see 

 the difference between the imitation and the real. 

 To give this up for the few trout that grayling displace 

 would surely be a poor exchange. 



There was many a threat of something happening 

 to prevent one or other of us going, but we came 

 through our difficulties triumphantly, and woke up 

 in Hampshire on that Friday morning within a mile 

 of the fishing. This distance we stepped out to waL^ 

 with the momentum that joyous expectation gives. 



There was a mist upon the river and the adjacent 

 meadows, which seemed from the long distance to 

 be a hea\y weight that could neither be lifted nor 

 dispersed (would it turn to rain, and rain incessantly 

 as on our last \'isit, was m}^ unspoken fear); but, as 

 we nsared it, like many another trouble it lessened, 

 and when the sun rose above the wooded heights it 

 encouraged the little breeze that blew up and athwart 

 the stream to have its way in brushing off, first roughly 

 the great bulk, and then quite cleanly the remnants 

 of, the clinging dampness. The wind then breathed 

 with a freer breath and rippled the fast-flowing water 

 into oily wavelets on which the sun played, and every- 

 thing seemed glad as we travelled upstream full of 

 expectations, I striding my best to keep the pace my 

 companion was making. 



From amongst the sedges round an eddy formed 

 by the incoming of a water}^ ditch, a trail of duck 

 commenced a flight that soon formed into an inverted 

 V, which helped to cut the air and made them look as 

 if on military dut}' bent. 1 was still watching their 

 flight when I heard that the plank v/hich had formed 

 the bridge over the ditch was broken doun. This 

 determined my journey, for a time, but Phil jumped 

 the watery width and advised my commencing to 

 fish opposite where I stood. 



Golden-brown and golden-green leaves, varnished 

 by the night's moisture, glittered in the sun and 



