OF PATIENCE, AS IT TOUCHES ANGLERS 147 



heard a pole-fisher say appalling things just 

 after losing what he declared to be a specimen 

 bleak. 



But, whatever the pole-fisher may be, I say that 

 the fly-fisher is not patient. He is persevering, 

 but he is not patient. The ass is patient under 

 the raining blows of the callous club. Uncom- 

 plaining, the ass endures evil. The fly-fisherman 

 is not thus. If evil comes upon him he is not 

 found uncomplaining. Let his flies begin to crack 

 off. The first time it happens he will repair the 

 damage without exhibition of anger; listen to 

 him when the sixth has passed from him down 

 the wind. True, he will persevere in attaching 

 flies until his box, hat, and coat have yielded up 

 the last tattered wing, the last rusty hook; but 

 though he endures, he complains bitterly. But if 

 you would listen to him, you must be concealed. 

 If he knows you are there he will say nothing. 

 Putting a fearful restraint upon himself, he will 

 say nothing, for he values his reputation for 

 patience above his own comfort. Only hide, and 

 you shall hear things. 



One of the marked characteristics of the angler 

 is his love of solitude. He is for ever impressing 

 this upon other people. " Company," he will say, 

 " is, in its way, very well ; but not when one is 

 fishing. To meet a comrade for lunch at some 



