CHAPTER XI. 



LAST HOURS WITH THE GRAYLING. 



ALTHOUGH on some fisheries the rule for killing 

 grayling extends the time to March 1st, most dry-fly 

 sportsmen at the end of the year put by their rod, 

 hang it up in its case out of the way of temptation, 

 and it was very near the end of my grayling season 

 when, on December 27th, I stood on the west bank 

 of the Itchen exactly opposite Twyford Church as 

 the hour of noon from thence slowly smote the air in 

 measured strokes and all was still again. The wind 

 was N.E., shifty and unfavourable, but sunshine 

 (albeit without much warmth) lit up the clouds in 

 robes of white as they sailed silent and majestic 

 over the sky, and gladdening the landscape all 

 around. Beneath the church on the slope of the 

 green hill the white gravestones in God's acre stood 

 out in bold relief. The full river as it hastened on 

 gleamed in rippling laughter. The weeds had lately 

 been cut, with due regard to the interests of fly 

 fishers ; the reeds at the broad, swampy sides also, 

 leaving only brown and rotting stumps about lOin. 

 high. This picture was mentally digested while I 



