172 AN ANGLER'S HOURS x 



have been a mockery, and undrawn gut 

 disposed of the dace, for all he was the half 

 of a pound, with promptitude and despatch. 

 Then began such an hour of sport as may 

 never come again. The fish seemed literally 

 mad for the fly, and black gnat, soldier 

 palmer, and Coachman were all taken with 

 instant impartiality ; and it seemed that the 

 dace were all big ones, running between 

 half and three-quarters of a pound. Several 

 times two were on the cast together, and 

 once even three, of which one got off. 

 Many were lost ; in such a wind it could 

 not be otherwise, for it was impossible to 

 attempt to humour a lightly hooked fish ; 

 but the fifteen pounds of dace that had been 

 amassed by the time the rise was over 

 seemed to justify the sack, which they half 

 filled. 



The indomitable one, whom a merciful 

 Providence had spared, appeared in time to 

 assist in the counting. He had, he com- 

 plained, been prevented from making a 

 phenomenal bag of perch by the trivial 

 circumstance of a tree being blown down 

 into the very pool which he was fishing. 

 As it was, he had only caught eleven, with 



