252 T(HE CURVED MEADOW. 



pool and leaves the wooded cliff, the curved 

 meadow extends; its lower hundred yards fringed 

 with rank rushes on this side, growing on a 

 black bed of squelchy mud, against whose 

 clinging affection even knee-high rubber boots 

 are hardly proof, if one is trying to land a 

 fish struggling frantically among the rushes. 



Over the meadow, at intervals, are clumps of 

 yellow iris, their glory now for the most part 

 faded and fallen, like that of the pink chestnuts. 



The opposite bank is edged with thorny 

 bushes like dwarf sloes, and the water under 

 them is deep and smooth, with oily eddies 

 wherever the small openings occur, the holt of 

 cautious pounders who rise only once or twice 

 in the evening, and then usually at real flies 

 which flutter as they glide. 



Then the river walking up becomes open, a 

 gravelly run of broken water, not very deep, 

 with trailing weed of brilliant green, hiding 

 free rising trout of more moderate dimensions 

 eight, nine, and ten ouncers; less shy as to 

 showing themselves, yet withal desperately sharp 

 sighted in matters of knowing a hawk from a 

 hern saw. 



Above this, is a long glide very open and 

 shallow with a narrow but deep channel close 

 under the elders of the opposite bank, all of 

 which is well nigh unfishable from that side. 

 That is why the Levite passed along, you under- 

 stand, on his way up to the big pool; because 

 he could not throw under the overhanging 

 bushes. 



