232 FLY FISHING FOR GRAYLING. 



on the hatch stile for a leisurely smoke after 

 2 o'clock one Sunday, I noticed a small pale 

 red fly fluttering on the water, and although 

 he had not been taken by anything, but dis- 

 appeared under the fringe of floating weed which 

 dammed itself against the hatchhole, I looked 

 in my box to match it, and found the one 

 described. The iron had a very distinct side 

 bend, was desperately sharp, and in some way 

 or other either the fly or the atmosphere 

 resuscitated a feeling of confidence. 



One specially dour fish, which had spurned 

 everybody's Fancy and anybody's Glory, was 

 still to be seen in a chalky opening between 

 two long peninsulas of weed. I felt sure he 

 would take it and he did. The gut was finer 

 than ever : the fly so small it seemed scarcely 

 able to keep a secure hold. As he ran up I 

 took the opportunity of crossing the stile and 

 moving down to where the bank projected into 

 a sort of cape, thus obtaining a straight course 

 for him to come without troubling to call in 

 at the dam of floating-weed. He was a long 

 time on while the line was out to the taper at 

 the reel end, but nervousness as to the gut and 

 the small fly saved the situation. He was 

 cajoled down with gentleness and persuasion 

 and landed, a game and handsome fish of i Ib. 

 9 oz. 



I lost the next two, neither of them much 

 over a pound, and then got one of a pound 

 and a quarter before the fly snapped off. It 

 was a pretty hour's sport because with the two 



