OFf ANCOLD-TIME ANGLER 197 



cared not which, for the rise was over I indicated 

 the gut trace. " This," I said, " is the gut, made 

 by extending the entrails of the silkworm. See 

 how strong it is, and how transparent." I tugged 

 at it. " And see here is the fly a sedge. There 

 are five hundred other patterns (sold at half a crown 

 a dozen), all of which I have in these boxes." I 

 opened my creel, and permitted him to peep 

 within. "This," I went on, "is my bottle of 

 paraffin oil, with which I anoint the fly to make it 

 float more yarely, and so deceive and master these 

 subtle fishes. These are the pincers with which I 

 pick my flies out of their boxes. Here is a tube of 

 dubbin I smear it on my line, reverend bloke, and 

 this causes it to float most excellently. Thus with 

 but one little twitch I do hook the brutes. Here 

 is a piece of blotting-paper to dry my flies withal if 



haply they be wetted. Here " 



" Good gentleman," he said, interrupting, " no 

 more, I pray you ! I am dazed. Tell me but 

 one thing. How cometh it that with so many 

 cunning aids thy skill, which sufficeth surely, as I 

 have seen, hath brought nothing to land in a long 

 day's angling ? " I was silent. A question at once 

 more pertinent and more impertinent had never 

 yet been put to me, or one less easy to answer. 

 "Behold," he said, "these my own unworthy 

 weapons ; my wand a single limber shoot of ash ; 



