8o DAYS AND NIGHTS OF SALMON FISHING 



fishing book belonging to my ancestors. In fact, I 

 did not put the hook to the rod and line, but my rod 

 and line to the hook. I next proceeded to the 

 pigeon-house, and picking some coarse feathers, 

 made what I alone in the wide world would have 

 thought it becoming to have called a fly ; but call 

 it so I did, in spite of contradictory evidence. Thus 

 equipped, I proceeded to try my skill ; but exert 

 myself as I would, the line had domestic qualities, 

 and was resolved to stay at home. I never could 

 get it fairly away from the hazel sticks ; therefore 

 it was that I hooked no fish. But I hooked myself 

 three times : once in the knee-strings of my shorts, 

 once in the nostril, and again in the lobe of the ear. 

 At length, after sundry days of fruitless effort, like 

 an infant Belial, I attempted that by guile which I 

 could not do by force ; and dropping the fly with 

 my hand under a steep bank of the stream, I walked 

 up and down trailing it along : after about a week's 

 perseverance, I actually caught a trout. Shade of 

 Izaak Walton, what a triumph was there ! That 

 day I could not eat that night I slept not. Even 

 now I recollect the spot where that generous fish 

 devoted himself. 



As I grew up I became gradually more expert, 

 and at length saved money sufficient to buy a real 

 fishing rod, line, reel and all, quite complete. Down 

 it came from London resplendent with varnish, and 

 many cunning feats did I perform with it. About this 

 time I learned to shoot ; not that I was strong enough 

 to hold a gun, but that the keeper put the said 

 implement to his shoulder, when I took aim at larks 



