58 FLY FISHING 



own, and may enjoy that sense of perfect free- 

 dom, strength and patience which is so valuable, 

 and which in fishing is destroyed by hunger or 

 the thought of a fixed dinner hour ahead. 



I must own that I do not appreciate the 

 evening rise so well as that in the morning ; and 

 there are various reasons for this. In the first 

 place, there is a more definite limit to the end of 

 the evening rise. It is often nearly eight o'clock 

 when it begins, and you know then that the light 

 cannot last for more than an hour. Now part of 

 the charm of the morning rise is the prospect of 

 indefinite length. It may only last a short time, 

 but it may go on for hours, and you feel at the 

 beginning that its possibilities are unknown. 

 There is nothing of this with a late evening 

 rise. On the contrary, you feel in a hurry 

 because the time must be short. If a rising 

 trout will not take your fly, you begin to fidget 

 as to whether it will be better to stick to that 

 fish or to try another, and if half-an-hour passes 

 without any success, the threat of an absolutely 

 blank evening makes itself felt. There is a 

 story of a thrifty and anxious housewife, who 

 used to call her household early on Monday 



