OF SEPTEMBER 125 



soon turns his golden sides to the sun. 

 Rather than the slow, almost pathetic 

 music of the reel which accompanies the 

 return of the victorious line to its place, 

 we would have another run, another 

 fight with our captive, amid the " bun- 

 kers" which the rocky stream affords. 



After long months of lethargy, the 

 sporting instincts are now revived with 

 a strange new vigour. The hunted 

 shares with the hunter that tonic which 

 stirs the blood that enthusiasm which 

 comes with September. A companion- 

 ship that is more real, a sympathy that 

 is more subtle, suddenly grow again be- 

 tween us and our dogs. We renew old 

 friendships with rods and guns, and we 

 love the red fox and the clean-run salmon 

 with an increasing love as the woods are 

 yellowing towards October. 



And nature is never so kindly, never 

 more lavish in her generosity, than she 

 is when the year is approaching its end. 



