146 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



patience is not here," it will be said, "where is 

 it ? " See him, immovable, tobacco consuming ; 

 he sits on his camp-stool, permitting his eyes to 

 creep from side to side as he follows the float 

 from above him to below him through the long 

 hours. Here decidedly is patience. I would 

 premise that I know nothing of pole-fishing ; I 

 speak here of fly-fishing. But in any case the 

 pole-fisher is no example of patience. The word 

 implies uncomplaining endurance of evil. The 

 pole-fisher has no evils to endure. What has he 

 to complain about ? To what wrongs should he 

 give utterance? He has no wrongs, no great 

 disasters, no small worries cumulative of effect. 

 If the fish feed, he has sport ; if not, not. In 

 either case he is ideally placed. He is thoroughly 

 comfortable. He sits at his ease in his punt. 

 The water never rushes into his waders. The 

 trees, the hay, lend greenness to his landscape, not 

 terror to his casting. The current gives his fore- 

 arm exercise ; does not ruin his cunningest throw. 

 The wind passes over him, and it is gone ; but it 

 has fanned him, not taken his only serviceable 

 pattern. The action of the stream removes, from 

 time to time, the paste or what not from his hook, 

 thereby giving him something to do. The word 

 " drag " is not in his vocabulary. Who could not 

 be ' patient ' under such conditions ? Yet I have 



