1 48 AN ANGLER'S HOURS ix 



small fly. It is a long cast, but easily within 

 the reach of this rod, and so the line sweeps 

 backwards and forwards until the length is 

 judged to have been attained. A very happy 

 chance makes the grey wings alight on the 

 bank a couple of feet above the fish ; the 

 slightest of hints from the wrist coaxes the 

 fly onto the water, and it floats down exactly 

 as one could wish. As one could wish, too, 

 is it taken, and another hint, from the elbow 

 this time (for it is ill striking from the wrist 

 with a split-cane rod, as what the learned 

 call its resiliency makes it a case of " one 

 step forward and two back," and so it pays 

 better simply to tighten on the fish), drives 

 the hook home, and the rod bends in answer 

 to a rush for the deep water. 



But, whatever it be that we have hooked, 

 it is certainly not a trout ; there is no dash 

 about the contest, and after a very short 

 resistance a dead weight allows itself to be 

 drawn towards us. As I thought, it is only 

 a chub, and not a very large one ; two 

 pounds and a half may be his weight, but 

 he is not worth the weighing, so he may go 

 in again. Had it been a month later he 

 would not have submitted so tamely, but 



