FISHING 85 



knees as if you were stalking a sentinel hind, 

 then throw your fly, light as a zephyr if 

 possible, just above the fat trout's nose. 

 That too has its charms, in the sweet-scented 

 hay meadows ablaze with green and gold. 

 Fascinating it is to watch the real and the 

 artificial Mayfly float down the water where 

 the green-brown shadows gleam and sparkle, 

 and look at you like soft dark eyes. 



The first time I ever fished in a chalk stream 

 was in Wiltshire, in those entrancing water 

 meadows near the wonderful Downs ; a far 

 remote, old-world spot, that stands to me an 

 idyll for all time. 



The day was one of light breezy June, with 

 a soft southerly wind that waved the water 

 upstream and made fishing for a dry fly 

 ignoramus comparatively easy, else I should 

 never have brought home five beautiful 

 trout, weighing about four pounds. 



The stocking of ponds with rainbow trout 

 has added another joy to fishing treasures. 

 Two small ponds in the Midlands, it is my 

 good luck to know, have given me some very 



