182 AUGUST ON THE IT CHEN. 



next moment we were both in the meadow 

 quivering with excitement. 



I got out my spring balance. He ran the 

 index to its full limit of two pounds and asked 

 for more. Weighed later, on cold butcher's 

 scales, he was two pounds two ounces and a 

 fraction the best trout of my season, much 

 admired by myself on the bankside, by the 

 habitues of the bar side where he was exhibited, 

 as well as the next evening at the home supper 

 table. 



Well, sedge fly fishing is often like this. 

 You may wander about the banks, spot various 

 fish and capture two brace on an August 

 evening. Or you may do the wandering with- 

 out this result. Or, without any result. 

 I have however always found it best to 

 roam as little as possible after seven 

 o'clock; but to choose a place which offers say 

 a hundred yards of promising bank above you. 

 Then take your stand or your seat at the 

 lower 'end and slowly work it up. On good 

 evenings the plan turns out well. If four fish 

 are hooked, with only one lost, you have been 

 dealt a fine hand. If three are hooked, with 

 two lost, you have had good sport. 



As already remarked, there is something very 

 luxurious in finding yourself alone upon the 

 water for three consecutive evenings. To know 

 that a fish you have tried for, and failed to 

 attract, will be in his place twenty four hours 

 later, gives you a quickening step and an object 

 in life as you near the place. One feels almost 



