A CONTRAST IN THAMES ANGLING 109 



trout there is nothing new to say. Of late years the 

 use of the live bait with fine snap tackle, and on Not- 

 tingham principles, has prevailed to an increasing 

 extent, but the familiar style of spinning from the 

 weir beams still holds its own. It presents a minimum 

 of toil, and the rushing water helps you so much that 

 it appeals irresistibly to the happy-go-lucky instincts 

 of the fair-weather sportsmen, who are probably, after 

 all, a majority of Thames trout fishers. Our friends 

 are persevering, but they persevere in the wrong way, 

 contenting themselves by fishing the same water from 

 morning to night, instead of working the bait far and 

 near with constant change of tactics. The Thames 

 trout is particularly cute, and is not such a fool as to 

 be taken in by a little fish that is always twiddling at 

 one place, in a strongly running current, yet never 

 gets an inch forward. A good Thames man spins his 

 bleak everywhere, steadily and naturally, into eddies, 

 close to piles, under trees, near the banks. The glitter- 

 ing object is never at rest, but flutters hither and 

 thither, covering new ground with every yard of ad- 

 vance. 



More through lack of opportunity than dislike, in- 

 tention, or design, I have not, at least to the present 

 time, enjoyed my full share of fishing from a punt, or 

 in the river Thames. On the few occasions when I 

 have sought it the experience has therefore been a little 

 peculiar, like that of going to school to learn something. 

 Together with the very proper keenness of the fisher- 

 man who wants to justify himself with the rod, there 

 have been a spice of inquisitiveness, the wide open eye 

 of inquiry, the sense of something not quite familiar, 

 in such days as I have spent in a Thames punt. My 



