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THREE FISH 55 



not great. He watched for a few minutes and 

 then rode off with the laconic summary, "Guess 

 you want a finer pole." 



But he was gone. Now for my pis aller — my 

 forlorn hope. 



Cholmondeley Pennell, in the delightful book 

 that was my fishing oracle as a boy, remarks that 

 the black chub fly may be improved by threading cj^^Ci 

 a bit of white kid on the bend of the hook. Perhaps 

 the fish take it for a gentle. Well, this was my 

 idea. If, I thought, I could only put on a bit of kid 

 perhaps this fish would take it for the Digger boys' /-:: 

 grub. But white kid-gloves were optional in that 

 valley. I had not brought mine. So — it was the 

 resource of despair — I snipped oif a tiny piece of my 

 pocket handkerchief, put that on, fell on my face, 

 wormed my way to the edge, dropped the fly on the 

 water, worked it down, down, till it was caught by 

 the little current that played round the further side of 

 the stone. Well, what possessed that fish I do not 

 know and didn't care. But he took it ! By Jove, 

 be took it ! It was ticklish work the getting him out, 

 but after a minute or two of wading and grabbing 

 and careful wiles, he was out on the grass and 

 he was mine. He was not a big fish, but a fish 



