CHAPTER IV 



AN EARLY SPRING DAY WITH " BOB " 



AFTER passing through the village of whitewashed 

 houses we turned down to the river through the 

 farmyard, and into the wood, under whose big trees 

 I used to see old Dick so mysteriously disappear 

 on June nights just as dusk was setting in. 



Before reaching our fly water we had a good long 

 mile to walk, but I knew " Bob " would be talking 

 all the way and noticing everything. The opening 

 days of spring set the blood of this middle-aged 

 man a-tingling very much in the same way that it 

 affected all the wild things in wood and water. 



I shall never forget that glorious morning the 

 red letter day in a long fishing life. The spring 

 sun was shining through the leafless elms and 

 chestnuts, and striking the clean, scaly, russet 

 trunks of the great Scotch firs. Well Bank Wood 

 was alive with the excited, mating twitter of small 

 birds, and the thrushes were singing in the tree 



tops. Otherwise all was still, and we might well 



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