THE CHUB. 



45 



may be found in the Thames, they are of com- 

 paratively rare occurrence, and not commonly 

 objects of the angler's pursuit) is the chub, a fish 

 for which, albeit he, like the majority of his con- 

 geners, is bad for food, and not good for sport, I 

 have a latent affection. Although not properly a 

 surface-feeding fish, like the trout or grayling, the 

 chub seems really to go out of his way to afford 

 the best sport in his power to the young fly-fisher 

 who may have graduated with the dace on the 

 shallows ; and although a hungry, not to say greedy 

 fish, to take him with the artificial fly is by no 

 means an easy matter. The skill required to hook 

 one large chub would suffice for a dozen trout or 

 salmon. Of course, the youth and hobbledehoys 

 are green, inexperienced, and easily captured ; 

 but to kill an old chub from two to five pounds 

 weight with the fly (I have never met with one 

 above the latter weight) is a credit even to the 

 experienced fisherman. It is only during the late 

 spring and summer months, or the early autumn, 

 that the chub will take what is by courtesy called 

 a "fly" on the Thames. This is generally an 

 imitation of a humble bee or a great hairy cater- 

 pillar. At such times of the year, the chub 

 occupies a station close under the bank, beneath 

 an over-hanging willow, and immediately behind a 



