168 AN OPEN CREEL 



weariness and vexation. The river would persist in 

 hurrying in the centre and delaying at the sides, 

 making my fly drag like a barge behind a tug ; the 

 wind arose at the wrong moments, hurling the cast 

 down upon the water in circles, with the fly in the 

 middle ; the herbage on the bank clutched the fly from 

 behind, and caused those horrid shocks which make 

 one look fearfully at one's top-joint ; and when at last 

 a clean cast was effected, the dispirited artificial insect 

 lay down on its side and refused to imitate anything, 

 while the reel line began to sink out of pure boredom. 

 Early in the day the natural flies seemed to me 

 numerous enough, and likely to tempt the fish up, but 

 later it was only too evident that they were miserable 

 starvelings, too insignificant in nourishing power to 

 attract more than passing notice of a self-respecting 

 trout not that there were any self-respecting trout 

 there ; they were mere poltroons, unwilling to await 

 the approach, much less abide the onslaught, of the 

 foe. In me these and other woes, too many to re- 

 count, had aroused indignation and a sense of wrong ; 

 but my friend (doubtless after some trying moments) 

 had been able to cope with them in better fashion. 

 He regarded, he said, the weather, the water, the fish, 

 and everything, with contempt, and had spent a most 

 enjoyable afternoon in alternately reading a book and 

 casting a haughty eye of depreciation on the various 

 matters that sought to disturb his calm. Such a grasp 

 of essential philosophy is worth more than many trout, 

 and my friend may now consider himself armed against 

 outrageous fortune if he can do the like again, which 

 is not yet proved. 



