44 THE PRACTICAL FISHERMAN. 



tion of myself and friend was Chertsey. It was a beautiful late summer 

 morning, which even at murky Waterloo gave promise of a splendid 

 day. About an hour's ride landed us at Chertsey station safely, and 

 we decided to walk to the water, where our fisherman was waiting. Now 

 I had arranged to try the boughs below the weir, and for that purpose I 

 intended giving the so-called fresh water shrimp a fair trial. A 

 good lot of the tiny bait had been collected by our fisherman, and were 

 stored in a moderately sized bait- can duly supplied with water. They 

 were assorted, and of more than ordinary size, and as I had never 

 previously tried this bait I laid particular stress on this day's results. 



We put off from the shore, and it truly was a delightful scene. The 

 Woburn Hill, on the east of the bridge, rose grandly, clothed in its luxu- 

 riant garb of deciduous trees and verdant undergrowths. The river flowed 

 steadily under the old grey bridge, and to the west the weir in the distance 

 made sweet music. The old lock house, so familiar to me, faced us. 

 Near, as we put from shore, and fringing the bank, were the low growing 

 alders and willows. Here and there a gnarled trunk stayed the stream 

 and formed a pretty eddy, truly perchy. The water outside deepened 

 and held the bronze barbel and other fish of equal sporting value, 

 including our coveted quarry. This, at least, I knew, and emerging from 

 these depths I anticipated the advent of many a goodly fish. Nor was 

 I disappointed, as the sequel will show. 



We shot across the stream and crept up the opposite side, so as not 

 to disturb the water intended to be fished, passing up the back water to 

 near the weir. I fitted up my tackle, which consisted of a fine gut line, 

 to which was attached an ordinary No. 10 roach hook, on which I placed 

 a small shot about 1ft. from the hook. My friend had an addition of 

 a, small quill float, his perception of a bite being not so acute as my own. 

 We presently reached the highest point and nearest to the weir, from 

 which we intended proceeding down stream. The modus of the fishing 

 consisted of being slowly handed down, and so carefully fishing near the 

 bank under the overhanging willows. Our fisherman knew his business 

 perfectly well, and regulated the pace to a nicety. My first fish was a chub 

 of some ilb., but my friend took a nice little lb. perch at almost the 

 same time. It fought grandly for so small a fish, and I could not help 

 wishing it had been four times the size. The light Nottingham rod would 

 ihave required careful handling. My wish was gratified to a certain extent, 

 not, however, with a perch, but another chub which came up, and with a 

 smack of its great white lips licked in my tiny bait. He scaled 3-jlb., 

 and was a veritable beauty. How he did fight to be sure ; but the triumph 

 of skill over brute force- and sagacity was eventually complete, and he 

 succumbed as is usual when I fish. (Query conceit ?) 



