Notes and Sport of a Dry-Fly YV/-/.s7. 175 



pursuit of sport ; indeed, some men may well ask, 

 Where does the sport come in ? 



On November 12th, after leaving Shawford rail- 

 way station, and passing through a wicket-gate on 

 the left of the high road going toward the bridge, 

 one enters on a park-like scene of rare beauty, as 

 yet, although near the middle of this proverbially 

 dreary month, barely touched by autumn's wither- 

 ing hand, nearly every tree being still green in full 

 leafy honours. And if on two or three deciduous 

 trees decaying but resplendently coloured leaves 

 still sparsely dangle on the upper branches, and 

 " from the topmost twigs that look up at the sky " 

 their boles and middle limbs are for the most part 

 so thickly covered with ivy, now in blossom, that 

 their general appearance remains verdant, little 

 changed from their prime, save that underneath 

 them the sward is overspread with crisp fallen 

 leaves, now, at eleven o'clock, glistening with ice 

 crystals of hoar-frost, patches of which on every 

 shaded place in the meadows will remain white 

 until the climbing sun, struggling through the 

 mist, has power to melt them away. 



The river seemed in good order, but in two hours, 

 persistently trying above as well as below the cow- 

 bridge opposite Twyford School, only three bright 

 grayling, measuring lOin. to ll^in. were killed, all 

 tempted by one fly without once changing it, i.e., a 



