AN OPEN CREEL 



Yet one must be as just as it is possible for a being 

 possessed of an ordinary human temper to be. I have 

 had delightful days with and without grayling. I 

 remember two of them late in December spent on that 

 lovely little stream the Wylye, in the portion preserved 

 by the Wilton Club. I enjoyed that expedition im- 

 mensely, though circumstances were not exactly favour- 

 able to happiness. The first day was one of those 

 without grayling. The weather was raw, damp and 

 depressing, and there was enough fog to obscure all 

 the surrounding country, though just not enough to 

 make fly-fishing impossible. The bag consisted, oddly 

 enough, of three large dace, which were rising in a 

 typical grayling glide after the typical grayling fashion. 

 A few small grayling were taken and returned ; not a 

 fly appeared on the water all day, and the cold was 

 extremely penetrating and unpleasant. 



At night there was a sharp frost, which made matters 

 a little more hopeful for the morrow, if only the sun 

 should come out to put the grayling well on the feed. 

 But the morrow came, and with it a thicker mist than 

 ever so thick that it seemed hardly worth while to go 

 out at all. But the air was crisp, and there was a 

 chance that midday might effect a clearance, so a start 

 was made about 9.30 a.m. A good two miles of river 

 bank were covered before ever a rise was seen, and 

 the exercise was welcome, for it was still freezing 

 sharply. At last, on a broad shallow above a foot- 

 bridge, a few circles were dimly seen out in mid-stream, 

 and it seemed time to begin to fish. There was no 

 fly hatching out, but as a matter of form a small dark 

 olive was tried first, with no result. A Wickham 



