DRY-FLY MEDITATIONS 73 



ledge. I saw one iron blue at 11.30 a.m., and two 

 medium olives at 1.5 p.m. I caught one little trout by 

 casting at a venture in a carrier, and transferred him 

 to the main stream. I also failed to land another. 

 For the rest, I did not see a sizeable trout move all 

 day. The wind was unspeakable, the local showers 

 were penetrating, and the " decidedly warmer " clause 

 must have referred to some other part of Hampshire. 

 Altogether, the day was a sad experience. 



While the season on any dry-fly water begins in 

 April, I suppose one is certain to be tempted out in 

 spite of all suffering. But the man who resolutely 

 declines to visit the chalk-stream before May is wise 

 in his generation. A cold, windy, rainy day is bad 

 enough in itself; when the actual amount of fishing 

 that one can do in it is limited to about half an hour 

 of unsatisfactory and nerve-trying excitement, the 

 question whether it is worth it becomes rather pressing. 

 A day is not without thought to be sacrificed for thirty 

 minutes' fishing. Those fortunate ones who live close 

 at hand, and can go out for the rise, leaving the river 

 when it is over, may take advantage of April's brief 

 opportunities with an equal mind ; but the angler from 

 a distance would be less irritated by beginning in May. 

 Yet, say the comforters, even in April are there days 

 on which the rise lasts for four hours or more. They 

 would be of more value if they had not always occurred 

 during the previous week, when one was not there to 

 enjoy them. 



