A MEMORY OF THE LUGG 119 



with such freshness and zest. As you read him 

 you are with him all the time on the river bank. 

 Two or three miles beyond Mortimer's Cross, 

 the scene of the battle which secured the throne 

 for Edward IV., brought us to our starting point. 

 Close to a bridge was a stationary caravan, used 

 as fishing headquarters, and this marked the end 

 of our journey. 



"Are you gentlemen in possession of a 

 permit ? " the keeper courteously inquired, and 

 the production of the warrant, duly signed by 

 the kind lady who had given us permission, eased 

 his mind. He wished us good sport, with the 

 comfortable assurance that there were grayling in 

 the river. 



The frost was still pretty keen and tying on 

 flies with benumbed fingers was not easy. The 

 Major, who lavished testimonials on " this 

 climate," was the first to complete his equipment. 

 Long service in the army perhaps helped him in 

 this respect. His evolution as a grayling fisher- 

 man had been interesting. Before coming to the 

 Teme he had done very little of it. He had 

 caught a few, but did not think much of them, 

 and had never considered it worth while to take 

 them seriously. The Temc fishing, however, 

 had fascinated him, and he now spoke of the 

 graceful, gliding grayling with respect, even with 

 admiration. He had experienced, and learned to 

 appreciate, the fighting qualities of November 

 grayling, braced by crisp vigorous weather. 

 Always careful with his first cast, like the shrewd 



f 



