A WEEK WITH HAMPSHIRE GRAYLING. 51 



are two big 'uns, one on this side and t' other ath'urt 

 the river." " Let's have a go at 'em ! " says I. " I'll 

 try them with an * Artful Dodger. ' " I wish I had 

 tried that fly before, for hitherto I had been working 

 with small success amongst the small fish with the 

 three Duns, olive, yellow, and blue, and several 

 others. " Wickham's Fancy" brought me one big 

 grayling. I got above the fish on this side, and 

 allowed the "artful" one to drop down quietly and 

 unostentatiously into the grayling's mouth. He came 

 at it splendidly, and I had him. Ah, how that gray- 

 ling fought. "What a fool I am!" he seemed to 

 say. * ' I ivoiit be caught this way ; I am far too old 

 a fish for this sort of thing." And he wouldn't ; he 

 fought to the last gasp. Davis had almost got the 

 net under him, when he tried his last dodge. Whilst 

 the line was tight, and I thought I had him safe, he 

 suddenly sprang into the air, and his enormous weight 

 snapped the gristle of his lip a piece of which came 

 away with the hook fast in it and he was free. 

 Certainly it was a pretty battle, and one to be re- 

 membered. "It is better," I cried (improving 

 Tennyson for the occasion) 



" Tis better to have hooked and lost 

 Than never to have hooked at all," 



such a beauty as that. "A three-pounder, if an 

 ounce; he was long as that, " exclaimed Davis, show- 

 ing me two-thirds of his walking-stick. " I am 

 sorry. " 



Let us have a try at that fellow over yonder. He 

 was still rising under the opposite bank in open water, 



