236 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



You may kill graylings from July till February. 

 That sounds very good. Eight months of it. 

 Here, you say, is a fish that should be cultivated. 

 Let us examine this matter. 



In July the large graylings disappear. They are 

 not. In August the trout copy their pernicious 

 example. Only the little graylings remain. (I 

 shall deal with them in a moment.) 



In September the big graylings emerge from 

 their hiding-places and provide admirable sport. 

 I have nothing but praise for them in September. 

 This is my one good word for the grayling log. 



In October my hands become lifeless after they 

 have once been wetted. In November I die if I 

 stand for more than half an hour by a river. In 

 December I stay in London. In January I stay 

 indoors. In February I stay in bed. 



A fish which causes me so much annoyance 

 cannot win my pardon by offering me eight 

 months' fishing on these terms. Therefore I 

 object to big graylings, except in September. 

 And this is not September. 



And now of little graylings. 



The little graylings feed for ever. Yet they 

 never grow up. There are little Peter Pan gray- 

 lings in this river which have haunted certain 

 spots for eight years. They were in those spots 

 when first I threw a fly on Clere, They will be 



