82 FISHING FOR PLEASURE 



of nothing more enchanting than such a stroll 

 on such a lovely evening. We almost regretted 

 our promised visit to the Lugg on the next day, 

 although we knew we were going to far more 

 beautiful scenery, and to far more abundant 

 fishing than we were likely to get here. 



Monday morning, June $th. Arrived at last, 

 and with it our motor-carist and jolly angling 

 friend, and as I have said he whisked us off 

 across country in almost no time, up among the 

 hills to his water. The day was superb, the 

 weather calm and cloudy, everything promised 

 success. I am now scribbling these lines in a 

 hut midway on the water, and the story I have 

 to tell, being tired out after six hours' work, and 

 while the others are still flogging the stream, is 

 not one of unmixed success such as we an- 

 ticipated. The May Fly was only moderately 

 represented, and the trout were not ardently 

 desirous of being caught. They came short and 

 wanted much catching. 



I soon grew tired of the monotony of sitting 

 in a hut by myself writing notes while the others 

 were away up stream. They left me at five o'clock 

 six, seven o'clock came and they came not. 

 Lame and footsore I took my rod, and on the 

 way I saw a rise, away off down stream. I made 

 the longest cast I ever made with my little 

 " Leonard," and, to my surprise, he came at me. 

 It really did require some manoeuvring to bring 



