176 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



prevail on 'em to start no prayers ain't going to 

 stop 'em, and yer gets floods and floods." Still 

 I've sometimes wished I had that man with me in 

 Scotland. 



I have a mind to test my lines again ; it won't 

 take long, and the extra confidence it will give 

 when the stretching strain of a rushing fish comes 

 to it will pay for all the trouble. It is just this 

 confidence that nerves the arm to master the first 

 Spring fish ; and it is so unlucky to lose that fish, 

 and so disconcerting, too. 



Why the desire to be so secret in this last un- 

 packing of the packed tackle? My sanctum is 

 in no way sacred to a youth who twiddles new- 

 found down. He does not knock, but comes in 

 unexpectedly with a rush and an "I say, dad." 

 He does so now, whistles and withdraws. 



After all the pother of preparation there still 

 remains that most fruitful time of happening, the 

 hours between the morning and the evening of 

 the starting-day. Something is sure to occur that 

 needs a telegram or two. 



"Cannot go with you. Will write. Johnson." 



" Mr Johnson cannot come for the opening. 

 Will reserve the rod for your son. Stewart. 

 Fortingall." 



So after all I had the further justification for my 

 going that there was a son to coach. 



He was the only novice amongst the party on 

 the opening morning, and, in spite of the decision 

 of the rest that it was no use fishing, in the face 

 of the report that there had been a frost and the 

 river was half frozen over, with blocks of ice coming 

 down, he said : "I shall have a try, and there's 



