90 Wet-Fly Fishing 



any fixed rules (for I know of none myself), 

 I am ready to indicate broadly the lines 

 upon which I sink the fly purposely. I 

 must again illustrate this subject by one 

 or two word pictures, after which, I think, 

 my meaning will be tolerably clear to most 

 readers. 



Sketch No. 1. 



I have started for a day's fishing on the 

 Tweed, Tummel, Don, Deveron, Isla, or 

 Cumberland Eden; say, in the middle of 

 April. For the past few days, the weather 

 has been quite genial; wind south-west; 

 flies have been not only in evidence but 

 in abundance. I have fished successfully 

 with the ordinary wet fly, but have never 

 really gone in for the sunk fly, save, per- 

 haps, late in the afternoon, when the air 

 got chilly and trout had ceased to lie near 

 the surface. This morning I find the wind is 

 from the north or east, and there is not even 

 a blink of sunshine to warm the atmosphere. 

 It is bitterly cold! " Why fish?" says 

 some one. Well, because I have some- 

 times made my heaviest baskets in weather 

 so cold that I could hardly fish without re- 

 peatedly warming my hands, in the manner 

 common to cabmen when standing on the 

 rank in frosty weather. 



