40 THE ELAN VALLEY AND 



or twenty feet below the meadows. There is, for a 

 wonder, in a meadow joining the bridge, a con- 

 siderable open space, and I should think, in proper 

 season, some splendid chances ; but I found the 

 river quite low and clear as gin no fly and no rise. 

 The flies come up in batches at certain times, and 

 then there comes a rise ; but I rarely can hit the 

 right time. Early in the morning and up to eleven 

 o'clock is, I think, the best time ; after then it is all 

 chance work. I caught a few small things and a 

 brace of good fighting chub, and that was all. I 

 spent three hours on the water, and then I had a 

 three-mile walk home. I tried new short cuts, and 

 found them very long ones. I got into a pathless 

 wood, with the usual briars and thorns. There I 

 saw flitting about from tree to tree, on soft, noise- 

 less wings, a pair of tawny owls. They reminded 

 me of boyish days in the woods, for I am sure I 

 have not seen a brown owl for sixty years. The 

 horned owl is, I am told, sometimes seen here- 

 abouts. 



Ah me ! The troubles, the labours, the real 

 hard scrambling I have gone through this day, and 

 all to catch a brace of chub ! It took me two 

 weary hours to get over those three miles tired 

 and footsore, muddy and limping ; the wise people 

 seemed to smile at the angling maniac as I 

 shuffled along through the streets. I won't go 

 a-fishing to-morrow ; I will lounge about on the 

 common, and loll on seats, and do nothing all day, 

 like other people. 



