THE TEST OF THE CREEL. 225 



prim little Iron Blues quickly appeared, as though 

 by magic, on the water's surface, jauntily riding 

 the tiny billows in quaint style. Now all set to with 

 right good will. The party separated for business, 

 and during the ensuing hour-and-a-half we had taken 

 as many fish as could conveniently be creeled, as had 

 also a neighbouring rodster, when one of the Scotch- 

 men hove in sight round a sudden turn. " Now 

 for an exemplification of the relative virtues of spider 

 and flies," observes our neighbour. " Science versus 

 ignorance and presumption," was our response. 



Scotchman "The fish are really playing and not 

 feeding ; I have risen dozens, but have not hooked a 

 single fish." 



" Indeed," was the reply, " but then you see you 

 do not use alluring ointments !" 



At this moment our acquaintance of the morning 

 hooked a good fish, which, judging from the un- 

 ceremonious way in which it was landed over some 

 weeds, must have been hooked very well indeed. 



" They would seem to be feeding a little better 

 hereabouts." 



" Rather," sagely observes our friend, as he opened 

 his well- filled creel to squeeze in his late capture. 



"By heavens!" ejaculates the disciple of typical 

 delusion, "you don't mean to say you have taken 

 that basket of fish this afternoon ? " 



" That's precisely what I do mean to say, never- 

 theless ; and what is more, I will wager the price of a 

 dinner that each of our fly-fishers have accomplished 

 something similar." 



o 



