THE GRAYLING. 313 



water a snowflake any other simile showing delicacy and gentleness will 

 do, dear reader, if you are dissatisfied with these my three tiny lures 

 drop in the centre of an oily curl and slowly disappear beneath the 

 surface. The faintest movement in the water not strong enough for a 

 ripple ensues, and I know its import. I strike sharply but not strongly ; 

 ho has it, and I feel the exquisite thrill, like some ethereal current of 

 electrical joy, tremble in every fibre at this the first fish. No subsequent 

 fish produces a like sensation, and, though I would like, I cannot commu- 

 nicate what it is like in the fresh brightness of the morning as it permeates 

 the frame of the healthy enthusiastic angler. It is not a pleasure of sense 

 but of the soul. 



The reel whirrs, and gamely the beautiful fish fights, and I, willing to 

 prolong the combat, handle the rod as befits my fealty to this " the lady 

 of the stream ; ' ' and am I not mindful also that the lips of the grayling 

 are tender and fragile ? So I am not in a hurry to place the net under 

 my iridescent prize, which I have by this time brought within distance on 

 the shallow, where it lies panting and silvery with its fins quivering, and 

 its lustrous eyes, almond shaped like those of our friend the heathen 

 Chinee by Jove ! jump ! flap ! kick ! very much like that deceitful 

 heathen Chinee, for the beggar's gone, and I didn't think there was a 

 kick left. This comes of sentimental morning rhapsodies instead of keep- 

 ing up the character of the " practical fisherman." 



" Dear me, this mustn't occur again," I soliloquise, and during that 

 morning I take great care it does not, for the fish was at least a pound, 

 and a pound of grayling is remarkably good sport all at one time, 

 especially in these streams. 



In fly fishing especially, success depends on instinctive perception 

 not nonsensical homilies. At first the tyro, by an effort of will, learns 

 from close observation how best to do what he wants to accomplish. For 

 example, he searches with all his senses and intelligence rampant for the 

 form of a fish, and then estimates all the chances of throwing, and suit- 

 ably and actively consorts all his mental and physical qualities for the 

 accomplishment. Lest I seem ambiguous, let me say he tries to do all he 

 does do, even to the detection of an almost imperceptible rise, and the 

 hooking of the striking fish. Herein lies the difference between himself 

 and the experienced angler. Trying by means of the true rule to shoot 

 a bird, viz., of holding the gun straight, is good, but being able to do so 

 without thinking of the rule is better, and so with the fisher and fishing. 

 A mental, tacit habit is formed in the good grayling fisher which is 

 independent of his will, and he therefore sees a fish before others, and his 

 wrist exactly tells him what strain he ought to put on it before landing, 

 with an exactitude far " beyond the rules of art," and unattainable by 



