TOP ROD SMASHED 35 



hills stand in the sharpest outline, and every way 

 one looks the eye at least is gratified and pleased, 

 even whilst the feet are sore, the bones ache, 

 and the inner man in a state of collapse. 



Undoubtedly the river is full of fish, as my 

 landlord assured me. The river swarms with 

 chub, and where these are so plentiful very few 

 trout are to be found; there are also plenty of 

 pike. 



The meadows adjoining the Rock House 

 Hotel, both below and above, are very charming, 

 not only for anglers, but for mere ordinary idlers 

 to ramble in. My time only permitted me to go 

 down to them for an hour or two one afternoon. 

 I should have done well with the chub, which 

 abound there as elsewhere, and peradventure 

 with a brace of trout which I saw rising under 

 the opposite bank, only that unluckily I trod 

 upon my top rod and smashed it after landing a 

 big chub and hooking a monster that, after a 

 splash on the top, sank sulkily down into the 

 deep water, from which my rod, .bent double, 

 could not lift him; the hook came away after an 

 interesting time, and my beautiful rod resumed 

 its perfect straightness and elasticity only immedi- 

 ately afterwards to be smashed by my clumsy 

 foot, and just at a time when I was preparing 

 for that brace of trout. That top rod has accom- 

 panied me for many a year and on many expedi- 

 tions, and has landed or lost many a trout and 



