A Red Letter Day 197 



had seen in or out of the water ; but this 

 was fated to be my red letter day a day 

 of triumph as you will see anon. 



In the succession of rather unlikely runs 

 that at this point chase each other down 

 three-quarters of a mile of valley I actually 

 landed five good keepable fish, averaging 

 about a quarter of a pound each, and I 

 should say quite a dozen par and baby- 

 troutlets, which were returned to their watery 

 cradle. The river seemed strange to me ; 

 what had happened? Had the river been 

 restocked with thousands of three-year-old 

 trout by some benevolent and large-hearted 

 conservator or philanthropic riparian owner ? 

 I began to fish carefully, for I had seen 

 several real good fish rise at a few natural 

 flies, apparently iron blue duns. The deep 

 pool by the fir and pine-tree wood was 

 awfully overgrown, but a fair cast placed my 

 flies under some overhanging hazel bushes, 



