238 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



at all. This they do that I may imagine the 



beginnings of a hatch. They are malicious little 



things. 



When I see them I cast to them, because I do 

 not know for certain that they are not large trouts. 

 Then they are delighted, and dash off giggling to 

 tell the big fish about me. 



1 hate them. 



It is impossible to teach little graylings wisdom. 

 There is one that I am always catching. I caught 

 her six times the week before last. On the Monday 

 and Tuesday once, on the Thursday twice, and on 

 the Friday three times. I find that this makes 

 seven occasions on which, in that one week, I 

 dragged this same miserable little fish out on to 

 the bank. It doesn't matter. It would be all the 

 same to that little grayling if I had snared her 

 seventeen times, yes, or seventy. Last week I 

 killed her eight times, but without any effect upon 

 her. She is still there. 



If I could see the creature, perhaps I might 

 avoid her. But she is invisible. A little grayling 

 in fast water is as inconspicuous as a Marconigram 

 as it throbs across the ether. Even could I locate 

 this fish I doubt if I should be able to elude her, 

 because she moves with intense rapidity. 



