162 A SCOTTISH FLY-FISHER 



** Is this a good day for fishing ? " is a question fre- 

 quently submitted to the angler on his way towards 

 the water. The subtle distinction between fishing and 

 catching fish, though obvious to the small boy caught 

 sinfully plying his rod on Sunday, generally escapes 

 the questioner. His language lacks precision. It fails 

 to convey his meaning with perfect accuracy. What 

 he really desires to learn is, whether the day is one on 

 which the trout are likely to be rising freely — and that, 

 the angler, being neither a prophet nor the son of one, 

 cannot tell him. We may call no man happy until he 

 is dead, nor, until it is over, can we say of a day that 

 it is either good or bad. It is as foolish to weigh one's 

 JDasket before the evening as to count one's chickens 

 while they are still in the egg. What constitutes a 

 good day it is impossible to define. There are, to be 

 sure, days on which we feel justified in anticipating 

 success, and others on which we have reason to fear 

 defeat, but, since our hopes and our fears alike rest on 

 probabilities alone, we have no assurance that they 

 will be realized. Our hopes may be belied and the 

 failure we dreaded be converted into our greatest 

 triumph. I have returned blank on a day that seemed 

 made for the angler, and the heaviest creel I ever 

 carried home was filled in a blinding snow-storm. 



