192 THE TROUT ARE RISING 



the colonial girls in South Africa, who, if father 

 and mother happened to be out, would take 

 charge, and make friends feel at home. Their 

 youthful self-possession, tact, and hospitality was 

 a real live welcome. But after this Shropshire 

 display I rejoice that it happened in my own 

 native county I am pleased to be able to report 

 that the Old Country is still holding its own. 



Most of us have fished on association or hotel 

 water where "the feesh ... is not so numerous 

 as the feeshermen, but more wise." I remember 

 one morning casting the fly on the Coin at 

 Fairford (where the trout are numerous and 

 wise), just by a bridge. Looking up, I perceived 

 a bystander, with a humorous eye. " Those trout 

 have the names and addresses of all you gentle- 

 men," he said. An old joke, but it seemed 

 fitting and fresh. Certainly, those trout made 

 one think about blanks. Did one put the fly 

 over them ever so temptingly, they would have 

 none of it. Concerning chaff from bridges, the 

 fisherman gets plenty of it. But once, at any 

 rate, the biter was bit. A youthful fisherman 

 ' planned revenge, and he won his victory oddly. 

 Rigging up rod and line, he made the motions of 

 fishing in an impossible ditch ofFthe main stream. 

 The inevitable " Caught any?" soon came from 

 the bridge, and he replied, "Yes." "How 

 many ? " continued the questioner, to receive the 

 grave response, " Well, you're the fifteenth ! " 



To revert to the Coin, which is dry-fly water, 

 anglers who have fished at Fairford will remember 



