136 AN ANGLER'S YEAR 



distance, and the fly is placed, as nearly as one can see, 

 over the fish ; again there is a rise, a strike on the off 

 chance, a tremendous plunge, and the line comes back 

 minus the fly. When one's views on the situation have 

 been expressed it is twenty minutes past eight, and 

 barely enough time is left to pack up and be off to catch 

 the train. A little fresh grass is put with my brace, a 

 little cursory remark is made about the last fish, a cigar 

 is lit, and when, at nine o'clock, I step into the railway 

 carriage the headache has disappeared, one's business 

 worries seem less, and the world generally is brighter. 

 "It's no use going fly-fishing in August," say some. 

 Well, perhaps it is hardly the time to get a heavy bag, 

 but to my mind it is the time par excellence when the 

 jaded brain-worker gets most good from his hobby; it 

 isn't the fish, but the fishing. The last time I was at 

 my river, while I was waiting for my tea I peeped under 

 the arch which carries the water from the mill tail, and 

 I saw four trout of from 21bs. to 31bs. weight apiece. 

 While I looked, out from under the arch swam a white- 

 coloured chap, at least two feet long and dry fly only 

 is allowed. Well, well, with luck and ingenuity someone 

 will get that fish, and planning for his capture will be 

 nice employment for the winter months. 



