CHAP. VI.] THE SECOND DAY. 399 



and fine stream below, under that rock, that fills the 

 deepest pool in all the. river, where you are almost sure of a 

 good fish. 



Fiat. Let him come, I'll try a fall with him. But I had 

 thought, that the grayling had been always in season with 

 the trout, and had come in and gone out with him. 



Pise. Oh, no ! assure yourself a grayling is a winter-fish, 1 

 but such a one as would deceive any but such as know him 

 very well indeed ; for his flesh, even in his worst season, is 

 so firm, and will so easily calve, 2 that in plain truth he is 

 very good meat at all times : but in his perfect season, 

 which, by the way, none but an overgrown grayling will 

 ever be, I think him so good a fish, as to be little inferior to 

 the best trout that ever I tasted in my life. 



Viat. Here's another skip-jack ; and I have raised five or 

 six more at least whilst you were speaking : Well, go thy 

 way little Dove / thou art the finest, river that ever I saw, 

 and the fullest of fish. Indeed, Sir,.'! like it so well, that I 

 am afraid you will be troubled with me once a year, so long 

 as we two live. 



Pise. I am afraid I shall not, Sir : but were you once here 

 a May or a June, if good sport would tempt you, I should 

 then expect you would sometimes see me ; for you would 

 then say it were a fine river indeed, if you had once seen 

 the sport at the height. 



Viat. Which I will do, if I live, and that you please to 

 give me leave. There was one ; and there another. 



Pise. And all this in a strange river, and with a fly of 

 your own making ! Why what a dangerous man are you ! 



Fiat. I, Sir, but who taught me ? and as Damretas says 

 by his man Dorus, so you may say by me : 



If my man such praises have, 3 



What then have I, that taught the knave ? 



1 The best grayling fishing is from October to Christmas. They are then 

 in fine season, and in my humble opinion they are a much better fish than a 

 trout. ED. 



2 That is, part in flakes. BROWNE. 



3 From "The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia," by Sir Philip Sydney, 

 1655, lib. i. page 70, which reads 



" For if my man must praises have, 

 What then must I, that keep the knave ?" ED. 



