THE CURVED MEADOW. 257 



great difficulty in freeing the gut without fraying 

 it badly. Gradually it cut the rush up its 

 entire length, enabling me to reel in and lift 

 out my capture. He was a golden beauty, full 

 of life and vigour; not three quarters but near 

 it, a fish to raise the average . of a catch and 

 not lower it that is always a satisfaction. 



The gut was smooth and round. A touch of 

 the oil brush quite restored the disarranged 

 coiffure of the fly, and made her as attractive 

 as ever. There were two other midstreamers 

 rising, but they sounded too noisy to be of 

 any size, so I kept my eye on the deeper water 

 under the sloe bushes. 



In one little embayment there was a tiny 

 ring, the suck down of a larger fish probably, 

 and after a false cast or two the olive came 

 slowly over the place. He would not have it, 

 nor again, nor again. I felt that the second 

 and third casts were a mistake; for though I 

 waited, and watched, like a toper at an inn 

 door, that trout never showed his nose above 

 the surface. The same thing happened in the 

 next opening : this time two flies were taken, 

 and mine offered him a third, but he too 

 treasured some experience of bygone days, and 

 retired a cheerful but wiser fish. 



The time was getting on ; I looked at my 

 watch with apprehension, a quarter to nine, and 

 only one as yet. The next promising rise 

 occurred so close under an overhanging prickly 

 branch, that I had to move up opposite to it 

 before a cast was possible. The fly drifted 



s 



