168 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



.Now, because in those days I still had some 

 troublesome ideas about those things which it is 

 proper for a dry-fly angler to do, I waited there 

 among the great man-eating nettles for ten long 

 minutes, and was just about to release myself when 

 the trout came back and began to gulp duns as if 

 he was mad. On that occasion I put him down 

 four times. 



It was on the Sabbath that I named him Bran- 

 Newcome. On this day I drove him off almost 

 at once because my fly, at the first delicate cast, 

 became involved among the hooks and wire of 

 my neighbour's landmark, and I had to stand up 

 and make an exhibition of myself. I went back 

 to London next day, but I was burdened with a 

 great oath to bring Bran-Newcome to grass before 

 the season should be out. One undertakes these 

 obligations lightly, not realising what they mean. 

 Had I been in my senses I should have agreed 

 with myself to consider Bran-Newcome a small, 

 ill-conditioned trout, or I should have remembered 

 that my title to fish for him was dubious. I 

 should have left him to my neighbour behind his 

 rampart. But in truth I was possessed by the 

 fish. 



All through May, whenever I was in Willows, 

 I was always going up to that fence to see if he 

 was feeding. My sport higher up and lower down 



