A BASKET ON ALL FOOLS' 105 



whole time, and no other rise. The rest of the day 

 gave us much hard work, but only one more fish 

 apiece. Still, it was most enjoyable, and light baskets 

 made the long tramp back to the trap easier than it 

 might have been. I was told, by the way, that even 

 so early as March the trout would rise in the evening 

 if the wind dropped a thing which would make 

 perseverance worth while then as well as later in the 

 year. But that day the wind showed no sign of 

 dropping. 



On Wednesday at breakfast I ventured to prophesy 

 that we should both have better baskets, whereupon 

 I was reminded that it was All Fools' Day a fact 

 which I had forgotten. Remembering, I was sorry for 

 prophesying, because it is an ill day for anglers, albeit 

 the air was much more balmy. However, we meant 

 to insure success if hard work could do it, and started, 

 he to the main river, and I to explore the Stickle under 

 the guidance of old Tom, who, despite the date, had 

 slaughter in his eye, and talked confidently of brave 

 fishing. But for an hour there was no sign of it. I 

 stumbled about among slippery round stones en- 

 deavouring to search a series of rough little pools 

 thoroughly, and did not get a rise till n a.m., when, 

 in a lovely glide under some trees, where it was 

 necessary to wade and switch low, I saw a yellow 

 gleam as the flies came down towards me. The hand 

 followed the eye, and I was into my first Stickle trout 

 a pretty little quarter-pounder. The glide was so 

 tempting that I went over it again, getting three 

 more fish, one a good half-pounder. As the rise had 

 not really begun yet, and we had not seen any of the 



