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gentleman, named Grant, to try our hands on the river 

 Wye, Derbyshire. We commenced in Rowsley meadows. 

 He had with him a splendid book of flies, no doubt very 

 suitable for the rivers and burns of his native country 

 (he called them spider flies), and had great confidence in 

 their killing qualities. My book was full of suitable flies, 

 dressed specially for the Derbyshire waters, and consisted 

 of duns of all shades, with a good selection of red 

 palmers, small orange and clarets, with a variety of others. 

 The natives have given these palmers a new name and 

 call them "bumbles." When these flies are properly put 

 together with various shades of dun hackles, such as 

 yellow dun, honey dun, dark brassy duns, and with a 

 good furnace hackle, called in Wales a coch-a-bonddu, 

 they are first class, particularly after a fresh, by fishing 

 down stream and allowing the water to work (not hurrying) 

 them, and edging the side well and carefully, letting 

 them come close to the bank before picking up to 

 throw again. This was a favourite mode with my father 

 when he wanted to make a good basket. But we will 

 return to Rowsley meadows. Mr. Grant and myself 

 commenced fishing about two o'clock, up stream, and to 

 all appearance there was not a fish in the stream till about 

 four o'clock, when they commenced feeding, the water 

 then being all alive with them. We tried nearly every fly 

 in our books, but with no success could not even get a 

 rise. We both sat down disheartened. I thought I would 

 catch a few flies to see what they were feeding on. I held 

 my landing net in the stream for some time, carrying it 

 carefully to the inn ; but we could see no signs of a fly 



