138 



A SCOTTISH FLY-FISHER 



Presbyterian conscience and his fleshly inclinations, in 

 which the latter were invariably discomfited. They 

 gave in with a bad grace, however, and he followed the 

 fish with a reluctant eye as, restored to liberty, they dis- 

 appeared swiftly in the brown water. Spite of his grey 

 hairs, he was simple as a little child, and although he 

 had handled trout during his entire life-time, was still un- 

 able to estimate their length ; between a fish of six and 

 one of eight inches his untutored eye saw no distinction. 



" It iss big enough to keep," said 

 he, critically examining our first cap- 

 ture as it lay in the palm of his hand. 

 "No, no," I exclaimed, " we'll be 

 laughed out of the hotel if we go back 

 with a fish so small. Throw it away." 

 "But it iss the ferry first we've 

 got; it wud pe a great peety no to 

 put it in the basket. Maybe it wud- 

 na be too big for a ferox." 

 " Measure it, then." 



" Hoo can I measure it? I haf no measure here." 

 "There's one in the boat," I reminded him. 

 "Where?" he asked, looking enquiringly around 

 as if he expected to find an inch-tape or a three-foot 

 rule lying ready to his hand. 



