2l8 NOTES ON THE MONTHS FOR FLY-FISHING. 



you console yourself with the reflection, that, as the 

 March brown is well on to-day there will be murder 

 to-morrow. By ten the next morning you are 

 therefore upon the scene of action. As the slanting 

 rays of Old Sol penetrate the murky clouds the flies 

 commence to rise from the bed of the river, sweeping 

 in battalions up and down-stream, or buoyantly 

 breasting the miniature rippling waves. Having 

 hastily put together your rod, and rigged up your 

 cast with a trio of March browns, you approach the 

 stream ; first wetting your line by way of prelude, 

 and carefully measuring your distance, you cast in the 

 midst of the perpetuated eddies. " There," you hook, 

 almost at the same instant, two fish, one on the bob 

 and the other on the stretcher, which immediately 

 dash counter to each other, smashing up your 

 delicately fine cast. The lesson here experienced 

 teaches that the extra-fine grayling lash of the 

 previous autumn is not equally adapted for heavy 

 trout. But lose no time. Quick! Look out something 

 more substantial. Ah, to be sure ! this looks more 

 like it. Pull out the coils by drawing the gut slowly 

 through your fingers. We must now " rig up " again 

 with fairly substantial artificials; which done, we move 

 on a little ahead. Now, very carefully by the foot of 

 yonder old alder. There, splendid ! You have him. 

 Gently ! Mind the weeds and hold the point of the 

 rod well up. Be careful ! He exhibits a strong 

 desire to embrace that old stump. Ah ! keep his 

 head well up, and take in line with your left hand. 

 Look out ! There is some spurt in him still ; show 



