20 DOVE DALE REVISITED 



Thorpe Cloud, or down from The Hazels, or 

 round the corner from the Twelve Apostles 

 and the Lover's Leap, or from over the heights 

 of Bunster, down stream it rushes to the detri- 

 ment of all fishing, and especially from our side. 

 The sun has not been seen in these regions for 

 many a day. I caught one large trout and one 

 small grayling both went back to their native 

 element, the first because he was a trout, and 

 the second because he was not big enough for 

 breakfast. The Master, I think, was mainly 

 engaged in swearing at the trout that would 

 come at him, and at the grayling that would 

 not, and so his bag was empty. 



The Parson, who is a good fisherman, went 

 away for his Sunday duties. The Major de- 

 parted, sadly bemoaning his bad luck, which, 

 however, was only common to all of us. The 

 Poet (I call him Poet, because I am unable 

 otherwise to classify him I have seen none of 

 his poetry, but he sings divinely) came here six 

 weeks ago a great invalid he left this day in 

 vigorous health. This was his first attempt at 

 fishing, which his doctor had advised him to 

 practise ; he proved to be such an apt pupil of 

 the Master that he left us an accomplished 



