THE CURVED MEADOW. 263 



givings on that score. This time it was con- 

 gratulation, too often it had been sympathy 

 that followed the question of ' Have you had 

 any luck ? ' 



The drive back that evening was made under 

 the pleasantest circumstances one could desire. 

 The cool night air after the warm day, the 

 heavy rug round wet feet, and a long deferred 

 smoke and talk about the evening's adventures, 

 the smell of the hay in the meadows and 

 presently the sight and smell of the moonlit 

 sea, with the muffled roll of the heavy shingle 

 on the beach, all helped to canonise the 

 meadow and the date. 



Many other successful evenings have been 

 spent there with the hope of others to come- 

 but this one, so far, still stands out as perhaps 

 the kindliest of all. 



For seven consecutive seasons the trout on 

 this half mile of water have maintained their 

 exact stations, showing most clearly that their 

 notions of etiquette as to feeding places are 

 conservative. Not only does one get to know 

 the positions selected by the best fish, but even 

 the places in which they will almost always 

 refuse, or accept, a well pitched fly. 



Another experience too is interesting, which 

 is that these good evenings have not been and 

 cannot be attributed to some special pattern of 

 fly, but embrace fully half a dozen; so that it 

 is impossible to name any particular favourite 

 to conjure with. On the last visit of all the 



