on trying to move I found I was stuck in the mud. With 

 great difficulty I extricated my right leg, and, in trying to 

 release the other, I lost my balance and fell backwards, 

 of course losing hold of my rod. I quickly regained it, 

 and on reeling up I found my fish still on, but fast in the 

 bed of weeds. I went a few paces down stream, holding 

 on with as much strain as I considered my tackle would 

 bear. At last I saw the weeds give way, and out he 

 rushed, several times trying to get back again, but I 

 managed to lead him down the stream, the head keeper 

 landing him for me. It was in splendid condition, 

 weighing over two pounds. I may here mention a 

 countryman, who was looking on from the bridge, shouted : 

 " If he hadn't fell in, he'd a killed every fish in the watter." 

 Of course, after my immersion, I was glad to return to 

 the inn to change; and further fishing that day was 

 out of the question. The day following I returned to 

 Bakewell to meet the keeper. We met several anglers 

 on the bridge, who insulted me as being the cause of 

 stopping the .use of the natural fly. I found it would not 

 do to fish there again, so went to the steward for advice. 

 He said : " Never mind, Ogden ; you have carried out 

 my wishes, and from this morning I have prohibited all 

 natural fly fishing. If they cannot kill with the artificial, 

 they shall not with the live fly." He at once gave me a 

 ticket for the river Lathkill, the duke's private water, 

 where I spent a pleasant week. Although the water was 

 as clear as possible, I had excellent sport with my floating 

 drakes. 



Some forty years ago, when I introduced my floating 



