THE FASCINATION OF IT 27 



an art in that ! " In the summer, too, he may 

 see baby moorhens swimming about, like little 

 balls of fluff. Rats, rabbits, stoats, snakes there 

 are plenty of riverside acquaintances to be met, 

 and with great good luck even the shy otter is a 

 possibility on the edge of dusk. 



Nor is the pleasure of fishing over when it is 

 over, so to speak. What can be more enjoyable 

 than the long winter evenings spent in putting 

 tackle to rights, and at the same time having 

 brave sport in the river of Auld Lang Syne, 

 following it yard by yard until one comes to that 

 lovely tributary which joins it on the right bank 

 and is called the Golden Future ? Be the angler 

 of retentive memory, and a wise traveller on the 

 road of locking-forward, he will have many 

 goodly rises. To the old warrior this way of 

 armchair fishing is pure delight. Even the rheu- 

 matism twinges a little less shrewdly, it is hoped, 

 as he remembers how he landed the three-pounder 

 late one evening by the mill weir, or that other, 

 bigger still, which rose under the alder bough by 

 the footbridge just as he was about to wind up 

 for the night. Through the grey fog of memory 

 experiences like these stand out, and it is well to 

 keep them and their associations ever fresh, with 

 a lively hope that the future holds even better 

 things in store. In this is Youth. 



To the young angler I would say : Get, and 

 keep, some good photographs of the river scenery 

 where you have spent delightful hours. It may 

 be, it probably will be, that one day you will 



