XXII THE AUTUMN SALMON *> & & 



r I ^HERE are high-souled persons who call him a 

 JL "red brute," and so dismiss him from their 

 scheme of things. There are statisticians who compile 

 treatises to prove that, even if he be not red it is 

 difficult for the high-souled themselves to find much 

 externally amiss with the bright, new-run fish of Tweed 

 even in November he ought to be left alone in the 

 interest of the fisheries. But there is a new sixteen- 

 foot greenheart just come from its maker, the old 

 favourites are receiving their preparatory coat of 

 varnish, the fly-books are open on table, a letter about 

 the state of the river is in pocket, October has arrived 

 in short, objectors and objections are neither here 

 nor there, as the vague but effective argument hath it. 

 After all, it is not wholly cynical to assume that a high 

 soul in salmon matters is a symptom of spare time, 

 full coffers, and spring rivers. Possibly, too, it has 

 some connection with a gun. As for the statistician, 

 he must always be proving something, and is not to be 

 appeased anyhow. If we did give up our autumn fish- 

 ing, error would creep into the river for certain. Who 

 knows but that something would prove to be wrong 

 with the law of the survival of the fittest ? The 



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