66 Dry-Ffy Fishing. 



moving, nor probably will be until the evening rise. 

 So I thought, and therefore, after waiting about, I 

 take out a pocket volume of " Childe Harold " to read 

 as I sit at ease on a fallen tree, pour passer le temps, 

 and to recall familiar passages of some of the best 

 poetry in our language, learned in youth and not 

 forgotten in advancing years. About two hours 

 later my cap (on which old flies are stuck, in the 

 orthodox fashion) was suddenly surrounded with 

 gnats, sounding a warning "ping," and, on glancing 

 to the river, I saw, with surprise and pleasurable 

 anticipation, that " a rise was on " ; diptera and 

 dark-winged Ephemerida? floating down, some trout 

 eagerly taking them. It was, at first, difficult to 

 see their size, and therefore time was lost in bring- 

 ing some under the set limit to net, but, when they 

 began to poke their heads above the surface for an 

 inch or two, it was easy to discriminate, and during 

 the next hour a leash of goodly trout were secured, 

 weighing respectively IJlb., lib. 6oz., and lib. 9oz. 

 The rise began to lessen, and then I crossed over 

 to the main river to take another look at the large 

 fish under the tree, referred to above. He had 

 dropped down a yard lower, and was taking olive duns 

 to the right and left. My imitation for some five 

 minutes was totally unheeded, but at last he turned, 

 followed, and closed his jaws on it. He was too 

 well hooked to have much chance of escape in the 



