DOVE DALE REVISITED 47 



slippery stones in the deep, he fell headlong into 

 the water. He scrambled out filled up with 

 water, and nothing dry but his hat, which he 

 picked up, peacefully floating on the surface. 

 He was more than two miles from home. He 

 reached there with all the speed he could muster, 

 slipped into the bath-room, had a hot bath 

 and a change of raiment, and was in a very short 

 time off to the river again, for he discovered that 

 in his haste he had somewhere lost his water- 

 proof cape. He found it awaiting him, hanging 

 on a bush, and he returned home a happy man, 

 not a bit the worse for his many mishaps. 



Wednesday, October 8th. The only fine day 

 I have had since I came to Dove Dale, and I 

 am glad to be able to report it. My fishing 

 only resulted in a fine trout, which, in obedience 

 to inexorable law, I put back. 



Thursday, October gth. The very worst day 

 of all incessant rain all day without cessation. 

 We fished through it all. Result : two small gray- 

 ling ; the Master still vexed by the persistent trout, 

 of which he caught several and threw them back. 

 He also brought home a brace of fine grayling. 



Friday, October loth. My last fishing day, 

 and a woeful wet one it was. The editor of "The 



