96 THE TROUT ARE RISING 



you see a movement towards the fly then go in 

 for a lightning strike, even if you do not know 

 what is going to happen. It occurred to me 

 about this period (October, 1919) that railway- 

 men ought to be good at this kind of fishing. 



What of the plumber and the cartage con- 

 tractor ? The P. plied his bottom fishing dili- 

 gently, and at last a jubilant " I've got a grayling ! " 

 brought joy to the bankside. Alas ! that gray- 

 ling did a quick change into a i Ib. chub, a fish 

 for which boots at the hotel had a liking. He 

 was made very welcome. The C.C. a little later 

 called for a landing net. He had on a good 

 grayling, which stuck to its colours, and the 

 C.C's. honest heart throbbed with pride and 

 delight. It was the first fish he had ever had 

 on, let alone caught. Ah, that was premature 

 . . . that fatal slack line ! But afterwards he said 

 that he had learnt a useful lesson. 



One surprise was in store. The P. said, 

 diffidently, that he would so like to be able to 

 throw a fly. Therefore one ripe October after- 

 noon on the Ledwyche he was rigged up with 

 fly-rod and line, without a cast. The elements 

 of instruction were given to him, and the result 

 was excellent. Usually with novices the line 

 gets there in penny numbers, and is picked up 

 like fire brigade hose. For thirty years has one 

 seen the same good old mess made of it. But 

 this time, with the Deptford plumber trying his 

 'prentice hand as fly fisherman, everything seemed 

 to go right. With rod well up, the cast was 



