THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR. 



this preternaturally clear water sea evil even where 

 none exists. They have the same feeling of inse- 

 curity as a sailor would have in a ship with a glass 

 bottom, or a nymph sleeping in a satyr-haunted 

 wood. If a rod be waved over the stream, the fish 

 darb away with the greatest expedition. 



We remember one exception to this shyness of 

 the trout during a drought. A big trout had taken 

 up its position in a wide parb of the canal which 

 runs through the charming vale of Llangollen. Its 

 weight was over four pounds, and it was regularly 

 besieged by anglers, who tried for it with all sorts 

 of bait ; but it took no notice of them, and went on 

 feeding and swimming about in a circumscribed 

 spot without evincing the slightest fear of its many 

 visitors. A friend of ours, yclept Jones, was de- 

 termined to catch this trout, and afber many 

 failures he grew desperate, and resolved to fish for 

 it through the night, as a last chance of catching 

 it off its guard. The sun went down and the dark 

 came on ; and minnow, worm, and fly had been 

 tried in vain. The night was a dark one, and 

 Jones mounted a huge white moth, and sent it to 

 where he imagined the fish to be, but he found 

 that he had got his line fast in the branches of the 

 bushes that grew on the opposite side of the canal. 

 He tugged and pulled, but he could not loosen it. 

 He did not wish to break his line, and he fancied 

 he could see his white moth dangling a short 

 distance above the water. He sat down on the 



