THE CHUB. 47 



throw the point of the rod well back, and wind up 

 your line as rapidly as possibly ; once get "a pull" 

 upon him and the result is certain, and far too easy 

 for sport ; the fish, however large, comes heavily, 

 stolidly to your hand, and the landing-net secures 

 him. What to do with him, is the next question, 

 and one which I confess I am unable to answer. I 

 generally give him to a semi-civilised bargee, or 

 an ambitious bank-fisher, who takes him home, 

 and, I fear, gets the unmerited credit with his 

 wife and family of having himself captured the 

 " delicate monster." 



A poaching but very killing way of taking this 

 fish is to fasten a cockchafer, a humble bee, a 

 hairy caterpillar, or, better than any, a large 

 grasshopper, to a naked hook, and creeping under 

 cover of the willows to the brink of the stream, 

 yourself entirely concealed, pass the rod with a 

 short line twisted round it, through the leafy screen, 

 and unwinding the line, drop the bait on to the sur- 

 face of the water as though it had been accidentally 

 detached from the tree. This being exactly what 

 the fish was looking for, he chuckles at his own 

 prescience, and swallows the coveted insect with 

 an audible smack of his lips, and a considerable 

 appreciation of his own knowledge of the ways of 

 the world. With a short line and a secure hold 



