178 AN ANGLER'S HOURS x 



a short mackintosh coat, determined to give 

 the dace on the shallow another trial. The 

 water was reached about half-past ten, just 

 when the clearing-up ought to have begun, 

 if there was any truth in adages, which there 

 is not. As a matter of fact the rain chose 

 that time to begin in real earnest, and 

 continued vigorously for the rest of the 

 day. 



I endured many things, including sodden 

 sandwiches for lunch, and persevered in 

 spite of them all. But the fish did not 

 seem to appreciate my efforts. It may be 

 that Wessex dace demand more violent 

 weather than was vouchsafed to them that 

 day. The wind, it is true, was creditable, 

 and the rain did its best, but there was no 

 mad rise such as there had been before. 

 The fish came short, and it was not until I 

 retired to the shelter of the bridge and 

 added to each fly on the cast a tiny tail of 

 white kid that I could manage to catch any 

 at all. With that extraneous aid three 

 dozen nice little fish, averaging perhaps 

 three ounces, were creeled. The big ones 

 seemed to have vanished, and there was 

 not a half-pounder in the whole catch. I 



