282 THE PRACTICAL FISHERMAN. 



spirit. Somebody says that the true gentleman may be known because 

 he is ever " calm eyed." So with this trout, his high-born glory of 

 development culminated in the question of his organs of sight. 



By carefully craning my nesk so that the shadow of my head did not 

 fall on the water, I could sometimes see the whole of his imposing 

 presence. What a splendid fellow he was to be sure ! The clear washed 

 silver of his sides, shot with a carmine of exquisite richness, and the 

 leopard-like markings of his back, how beautifully harmonised ! The 

 most adroit efforts of the greatest painters have never equalled in grace 

 and beauty the symmetry of the most simple of our fishes. There is 

 such a completeness in the adaptation of the means to its end ; such an 

 evidence of delicacy and vigorous strength, and withal such an aureole of 

 beauty in colour and brightness, that representations even of ideal beauty 

 have never, so far as my observation has gone, equalled the actual figure 

 of a trout, and, when that trout is a Thames fish to boot, my convictions 

 are remarkably enhanced. 



Thus, morning after morning, I gazed my fill, and gloated over the 

 charms of the unconscious fish till, lover like, I could no longer refrain 

 from endeavouring to possess myself of the splendid fellow. But what a 

 shame it would sometimes seem, when I even had put my rod together, 

 and, strange as it may appear, T assure my readers that more than once 

 I refrained from wetting a line in consequence of this reflection. But 

 at last I could stay my hand no longer. Every morning at six, to a tick, 

 would the grand fellow plunge from his lair, and speeding to the mid- 

 stream where a plashing rapid gurgled and rushed over the whitened 

 stones, he would single out the little " willow blade," or bleak, or viva- 

 cious minnow, and a resonant roll would accompany the strong effort of 

 capture, announcing the death of its prey at the same time. Never but 

 once did I observe him miss, and then he sulked for half-an-hour, 

 returning disappointed and disgusted to his home. His sight and spring 

 were unerring, and from six till nearly eight were frequent for at least a 

 month before the dire intention to capture him entered my heart. I know 

 not why I refrained, but, as a matter of fact, I did. 



He must die ! The fiat, like the stern movement of the thumb in the 

 Roman arena, had gone forth, and, as against the Medo-Persian laws, 

 there was no appeal. At a quarter to six, therefore, one bright sunshiny 

 July morning, I stepped into the punt, and was soon within twenty yards 

 of the happy hunting grounds of the fish. The Nottingham live bait 

 tackle was to be the means of his destruction, and forthwith the line 

 was prepared, and down stream floated the agile bleak to a little below 

 where his troutship usually struck. Presently there was a roll of the 

 water, and I made certain he had taken the bait and struck. By Jove he 



