66 EASY-CHAIR MEMORIES 



and the wind dead against me, it was no easy 

 matter to get my fly into that little recess 

 without flopping on him, and so putting him 

 down. It seems to me that I must have spent 

 a quarter of an hour in casting over that trout, 

 and at last he took my fly. He seemed quite 

 surprised; he did not like the taste of it; he 

 fought against that thing in his month. He 

 was one of the best fighters I ever had hold 

 of. He jumped, and wriggled, and dashed 

 up and down with astonishing pluck. While 

 I was so pleasantly engaged, there came a 

 combined shout from Piscator and Piscatrix : 

 " Come away ; time is up ! " I turned round 

 for a second or so, and in that second my 

 line got twisted round the top of my rod, 

 and I could no longer wind up for perhaps 

 ten seconds, and my trout lay panting on 

 a bed of weeds. By the time I had cleared 

 the line he had regained his vigour, and when 

 I gave him a fresh reminder to come my way, 

 he distinctly refused to comply with my request. 

 He made another supreme effort, dashed into 

 the weeds my line came away, leaving the fly 

 in his cheek. He was a big fellow and a 

 splendid fighter. I wanted that trout badly. 



