PLIES. 39 



ness of the weather, the rain dropped from the thatch in- 

 cessantly, the monotonous splash of the falling water, with 

 the sombre influence of a dull and torpid atmosphere, gra- 

 dually produced a drowsiness, and I fell fast asleep over a 

 dull collection of sporting anecdotes. My cousin's return 

 roused me; he placed a spider- table beside the window, 

 and, having unlocked a box filled with angling materials, 

 "in great and marvellous disorder," proceeded to extract, 

 from a mass of unmentionable things, the requisites for 

 dressing a cast or two of flies. As my own voluminous book 

 had been sadly discomposed in the numerous interchanges I 

 made, when vainly trying to seduce a salmon to try my 

 " tinsel and fine feathers," I proceeded to arrange my splendid 

 collection, while my kinsman was busied with his own simple 

 stock. The disappointment I had endured in finding my flies so 

 unprofitable, had made me hold the entire outfit of the London 

 artist in disrepute ; and I would have given my most elaborate 

 and expensive fishing-rod for the hazel angle of the ancient 

 otter-killer. 



" Frank/' said my cousin, " you must not undervalue 

 what really is unexceptionable ; I mean the mechanical part 

 of your collection. Those rods are beautiful ; and your 

 reels, lines, gut, and hooks, cannot be surpassed ; your flies 

 may be excellent in an English river, so put them carefully 

 aside, as I will supply you with some better adapted to our 

 mountain streams. But what a size that book is ! In fishing, 

 as in literature, the schoolmen's adage holds, Mega biblion, 

 mega Jcakon. Why, nothing but a soldier's pack would 

 carry it ! we will soon, however, render you independent of 

 this mighty magazine, by teaching you to fabricate your own 

 flies." 



"I fear I am too old to learn; the art of tying must, I 

 presume, be acquired early in life, and brought to perfection 

 by after experience." 



" This does not always follow ; I did, when a boy, tie flies 

 passably ; but, having left off fishing when I removed from 

 my native river, I forgot the art, and depended on others for 

 my supply. The person who furnished my casting-lines fell 

 sick, and it unluckily happened that his illness occurred in 

 the best period of the season; and as the river was filled 

 with fish, constant service soon wore out my scanty store. 

 Necessity is the mother, you know the proverb, I was 



