106 Dry -Fly Fishing. 



although a few bright sunny and frosty days inter- 

 vened between stormy and north-easterly gales, the 

 air was so searchingly cold, as it always is when a 

 heavy fall of snow is imminent, that even my 

 enthusiasm for dry-fly fishing failed to tempt me 

 far from home, and I knew by experience that fish 

 become lethargic and seldom rise to the surface when 

 snow is brooding. But when on November 22nd I 

 read, with surprise and pleasure, that light southerly 

 breezes were predicted, my thoughts ever and anon 

 wandered to the riverside, and by 1.30 p.m. I was 

 there in person, ready for the sport, and perfectly 

 happy in the solitude and peace of natural sur- 

 roundings. As yet, however, no fly was on the 

 water ; nor did the rise begin until three o'clock, 

 when the first grayling was hooked and landed. 

 The afternoon, therefore, was so far very disappoint- 

 ing; but when I left off at 4 p.m. three brace, 

 weighing from lloz. to 18oz., graced the creel. 



On the 24th the back stream at 1.30 p.m. was 

 found to be let down so low by the exigencies of 

 the miller, that on nearly all the glides and shallows 

 which grayling usually frequent when rising to 

 surface food, no fly or fish could be seen. I there- 

 fore crossed over the park to the main river, and, 

 approaching the margin on tiptoe, knelt while 

 necessarily making underhand casts to avoid the 

 pendant boughs of a sycamore close by. I made 



