EASTER FLY FISHING ON THE ITCH EN 9 



the rain came down in torrents, and I sought 

 shelter in the hut. I pitied the Easterlings. 

 Meanwhile the Major had not been idle. His 

 golden spinner worked admirably, but it did not 

 attract like that old Phantom swinging on the top 

 of the oak tree. He longed for that destructive 

 machine, and he was determined to have it. Our 

 good friend the farmer carried down a light 

 ladder, and between them they managed, by the 

 help of the rod, to break the branch, and down 

 came the Phantom, and, of course, sank at once 

 into six feet of water. " Now," said I, " although 

 your Phantom was not doomed to be hanged 

 after all, he certainly was to be drowned ; " but 

 the Major was not to be so done. From his perch 

 up in the tree he could see the glittering Phantom 

 deep down in the water, so he determined to 

 fish for him. With his rod up in the tree he 

 let down the well-weighted Golden Miracle, and 

 by skilful angling caught hold of the little branch 

 in which the Phantom was fixed, and hauled it 

 up triumphantly. That Phantom pike slayer has 

 more work to do yet. 



The rain was still pouring, or, rather, driving 

 before the gale. I went home, and left them to 

 further devices. 



An hour or two later the Major turned up with 

 a 6-pounder and two smaller pike, making in all 

 seventeen of these destructive brutes for two days' 

 work. 



Easter Tuesday. If a south-westerly gale is bad 



