OF THE FISHES 149 



when spring is unfolding her tender 

 treasures, the honest angler cannot but 

 have a deep regard for the silvery little 

 fellows who prepare themselves for a 

 winter of activity and life when the 

 remnants of the year are smouldering 

 away, and the streams slide so coldly and 

 sadly through leafless woods. 



Turning towards home in the crisp 

 winter evening, when the last stain of 

 crimson has melted away in the blue- 

 green sky and the pale stars come out, 

 the fisherman will, perhaps, give a kind- 

 ly thought to that astute folk the 

 monks who, it is said, introduced the 

 grayling into the streams which water 

 the fertile lands in which they raised 

 their stately abbeys. It may be that he 

 will think too of good old Linnaeus, who 

 christened the grayling Salmo thymallus 

 that is, if he loves the wild thyme 

 and the wild moors which nourish it, as 

 every true angler should. And we would 



