JULY 173 



feather of the silver pheasant, and just a spark of scarlet. 

 If there be merit in variety, methought, it must be found 

 in presenting to the fish something unlike what they 

 had already been made too familiar with. But long 

 acquaintance with dour Scottish gillies undermined much 

 expectation of being allowed to indulge my fancy. Sure 

 enough, Rogan extracted from his inner pocket a parcel 

 of dainty works of art real fine art chiefly creatures 

 with golden-yellow bodies and rainbow wings. It was 

 with a sinking heart and a stammering tongue that I 

 explained to Rogan my ambition to try an experiment 

 I put it no higher than that with one of my own flies. 

 Well knowing how ruthlessly your Scot would have 

 crushed any deviation from local orthodoxy, I was little 

 prepared for the easy compliance shown by Rogan. 

 ' Well, sorr,' said he, with the utmost good-humour, ' I 

 never seen the like o' that tried in this river : we mostly 

 use the yulla-and-grouse or the green Parson; but sure 

 your honour '11 not be wrong, the way ye have so much 

 exparience of fishing, and we 11 give it a thry, anyway.' 



With that he restored to his pocket his assortment 

 of local favourites, throwing a courtly veil over his 

 invincible distrust of novelties, lest he should wound my 

 feelings. 



Now I need not inflict upon the reader a description 

 of our sport. In literature every salmon is a bar of 

 silver ; the fish invariably rushes about like a motor-car ; 

 the reel screeches; the greenheart bends; the angler 

 'gives the butt' at precisely the moment to prevent 

 irremediable disaster, applying himself to his flask when 

 the fight is over and the quarry safely ashore. The 

 story has been repeated a thousand times, and in much 



