110 



THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR. 



pencil with our initials that it may be kept for our 

 use on a future occasion, lay it down reverently, 

 and sally forth to seize our rod, the miller following 

 with a sly smile on his ruddy face, ready to break 

 into a ponderous laugh at our approaching defeat. 

 But during the winter we have been plotting dark 

 deeds. We know full well that these huge trout 

 will not look at an ordinary fly, so we have con- 

 structed the image of a large green caterpillar, 

 curled up in the most natural manner. As we 

 attach it to our line the miller's face grows solemn, 

 and he shakes his head, but says nothing. We 

 twist the rod until the line is rolled around the 

 top like thread on a reel ; then creep cautiously 

 along the bank to just above the alder bush. Our 

 position is perilous. The bank is steep and slippery ; 

 our foothold is scant we are, alas ! obliged to crush 

 a tuft of primroses with our boot ; and the water 

 below us is deep. 



There is the trout. His weight can surely not 

 be less than four pounds and a half. He does 

 not see us. We quietly insert the point of the rod 

 through the bushes, and unroll the line so that the 

 caterpillar descends towards the water in exactly 

 the same manner that a real caterpillar does, 

 siispended by his silken thread. When it is about 

 six inches from the water, we pause, and hold it so 

 for a few seconds, while the big trout is watching 

 it. Then we let it fall suddenly on the water. The 

 trout rises at once, and with a quick chop of his 



