42 By Stream and Sea. 



and his modest expectations of sport are never falsified 

 should the water be at all fishable. There are numbers of 

 other anglers who in the same way never regret their intro- 

 duction to the stream and the peaceful lowlands through 

 which it winds. 



But we are working at a disadvantage to-day; we try a 

 few casts with Hammond's Favourite and Wickham's Fancy, 

 two sweet little flies, upon the why and wherefore of which 

 the author will deliver a two hours' lecture, so theoretically 

 has he studied the shining body, delicate hackle, and slender 

 wing of which they are composed. We see plenty of fish in 

 the smooth reaches, but not the ghost of a rise. A couple 

 of gentlemen whom we pass have met with no success, 

 though they have tried all the favourite flies, and artificial 

 minnows to boot. The mystic hour of two has passed, and, 

 in the words of the old saying : " As the day lengthens, the 

 cold strengthens." Down once more before the sou'-west 

 blast comes the hail, causing the face to smart as if lashed 

 with whipcord. The narrow stream is roughened into waves. 

 We run before the wind under bare poles to the lee of the 

 willow-bed, disturbing the moor-hens, who dive at our 

 approach and appear again shaking their shapely heads fifty 

 yards up stream. 



Here, in cool grot, we find a third individual who has 

 been forced into shelter. He is a man learned in trees and 

 plants, and for ten minutes he bewails the backwardness of 

 the season. He has cause, doubtless, for the common spring 

 flowers which usually smile upward at the pass'er-by keep 

 snug within their buds. The little celandine will scarcely 

 open, though the primroses and violets have set it a good 

 example. The trees are sulky as to blossom and bud, the 

 ends of the branches appearing as if hermetically sealed 

 with bits of wax. Still the coppices are almost impercep- 



