84 WHEN WATERS 



Then I thought the miller uttered a 

 scornful laugh. 



Again and again I tried the Stone-fly, 

 both on the surface and below. Now I 

 put on a Creeper and drew the repuls- 

 ive little creature along the edge of the 

 broken water, wriggled it to within a 

 few inches of the trout's nose, with no 

 better result. He was immovable and 

 hard to please, and I was exhausting my 

 means of attack as well as my stock of 

 patience. 



The miller had now left the wall, and 

 I feared that he had gone in to turn his 

 gear on ; but I was mistaken there was 

 the ghostly face, now wearing an unmis- 

 takable smile, peering from a cobwebbed 

 window above. 



I was so well hidden that I lit a pipe, 

 as most anglers do when in a contem- 

 plative mood, and watched the stubborn 

 old veteran in the water. Perhaps he 

 would commence feeding when the sun- 



