xii A THAMES SALMON 209 



complaints) that they had not been provided 

 with eighteen - foot fly -rods because the 

 water was the wrong colour for the fly, 

 and generally endeavoured to seek peace at 

 the expense of veracity. After all, I can 

 bait a hook, and I know as much of the 

 haunts of Thames salmon as the next man. 

 I hoped, too, that a long day spent in vain 

 would cool Amaryllis's enthusiasm, and that 

 after it the incident would be regarded as 

 closed, even at the expense of Father 

 Thames's reputation as a salmon river. It 

 was possible, of course, that she might 

 ascribe failure to my inefficiency, but in 

 that event she would not be unappeasable. 

 If she were ever to learn that she had 

 caught no salmon because there were none 

 to catch, I should never be forgiven for 

 letting her fish in error. 



The day wore on. We sought several 

 fresh beats (save the mark !), but never a 

 touch indicated that salmon or anything 

 else fancied lobworms on leger tackle. We 

 lunched, and I held forth at some length 

 on the uncertainty of salmon -fishing. I 

 amended the ancient Thames story (of the 

 man who caught a brace of ten-pound trout 



p 



