TWO OF A TRADE. 41 



own boat ' gang warily,' but no other boat should go up 

 or down just before you. Now-a-days, when there is so 

 much rowing and, far worse than all, ' launching ' on 

 the Thames, it is heart-breaking work for the chub-fisher 

 who uses the fly. Just as you are coming to a good stretch 

 of chub bank, some boat full of holiday-makers passes you, 

 rowing erratically about, now out in mid-stream, now into 

 the boughs ; up or down they go, laughing at your black 

 looks, scaring every chub for a mile above or below you ; 

 and you may wait at least an hour before the fish are ready 

 to feed again, when perhaps another boat passes you. This 

 is dreadfully trying work to the temper ; and as the best 

 weather for you is also the best for the holiday folks, it 

 happens only too frequently. As for steam launches, tney 

 are fatal to you utterly, as they wash the chub out of their 

 holes into the deep water altogether. With what fervency, 

 too, do you hate a rival ! You come slipping down through 

 the lock, thinking that you will just hit upon Streetly Pol- 

 lards or Pangbourne Flags, or wherever it may be ; just as 

 you open the reach a rod-Hash catches your eye, and three 

 parts down the coveted reach you see a boat with some 

 bungling beast walloping the boughs with his useless palmer, 

 doing no good himself, but spoiling your sport. How you 

 love him ! Never mind, row ashore and wait. But, perhaps, 

 he isn't a bungling beast, but knows all about it as well as 

 you do, even to the ' silver body ' and leather tail, when 

 despair is your only portion. See ! his rod bends double over 

 a four-pounder ! Yah ! confound the chub-fishing : you'll 

 give it up for ever in future. These are the chances of war 

 and fishing, and unhappily they increase every year, and 

 assuredly I shall never catch a cwt. of chub in this way again 

 on the Thames. But when everything is propitious, and you 

 are first on the ground, it is delightful sport dropping 

 lazily on for miles, with constantly-changing scenery and 

 pleasant chat you go, with now a pipe and then a pun. 



