DAYS AT DRIFFIELD 143 



fish saw it and either took or rejected it. I did not 

 expect any result from this, but, strange to say, it was 

 not long before I was engaged in an animated contest 

 with what appeared to be a smallish fish. I could not 

 do anything with him, and when, after a long fight, he 

 eventually came to the net, I found he was not hooked 

 at all, but lassoed round the tail. Such a thing has 

 never happened to me before, though I have heard of 

 it. He weighed fifteen ounces, and I kept him for 

 luck. 



After this I played the fool again, losing no less than 

 four good trout one after the other. Two at least 

 should have been mine with reasonable care. Finally, 

 disgusted with my performance, and finding that the 

 mill was not stopping work, I left the Parks and went 

 up to the deep, narrow stream which feeds the mill, 

 and here wound up the evening with a lively piece of 

 sport. Two brace weighing five pounds, with a brace 

 of twelve-inch fish returned, besides rises missed and 

 fish pricked and lost, made the evening memorable. 

 A brace came to the red quill aforesaid, and others to 

 a blue upright. The day yielded four and a half brace. 

 I could have kept seven brace, and if I had only fished 

 properly I believe I might have had ten, the seldom- 

 achieved maximum basket for the water. 



Pride goeth before a fall. It was on the same visit 

 that I had a day of unparalleled badness. The weather 

 was very hot, which was partly responsible for it. On 

 the previous evening I had found the upper water a 

 milky white and quite unfishable, and the reason 

 proved to be cattle and horses trampling about in the 

 beck higher up and stirring up the chalk. Drifneld 



