DRY-FLY MEDITATIONS 89 



in an easy position. It took the fly like a lamb, gave 

 two kicks, and was also gone. There was a moment 

 of silence, and then, in a still, small voice came, " It 



is better to have hooked " But the sentiment faded 



away at that point. Upstream some fifty yards, and 

 sheltered from the wind by a spinney, was a broad 

 shallow, and on it fed five trout, all good ones, and all 

 within reach from one spot. The first took the blue 

 upright as though it had been waiting for it all day. 

 It ran, jumped, tumbled, and finally gave in, submitting 

 to be drawn netwards, a good two-pounder. Then the 

 fly came away as the net was being lowered to the 

 stream. Again there was a silence, and again an effort 

 was made to snatch consolation out of verbiage. " It 

 is better But it was obviously not better, so 



nothing further was said in that vein. None of the 

 other fish on the shallow would look at the blue 

 upright, so several other flies were put over them, flies 

 large and flies small. 



At last a double-hooked black midge (warranted to 

 have hooking powers extraordinary) rose the biggest 

 trout of the five, held it for a second or two, and came 

 away fatigued. "It -" began the angler with 

 heroism, but that was the last word of proverbial 

 philosophy that day; a sentence beginning with " it " 

 can finish in so many ways that it is useless to choose 

 the least appropriate ending, and besides, something 

 had to be said about the black midge before it was 

 taken off. A Wickham, on a No. i hook, took its 

 place. The last fish of the five, being somewhat above 

 the rest, had not been disturbed by the struggles of its 

 fellows, and still continued to feed heartily. It was 



