xiii THE MIDLAND BROOK 233 



sees another fish rise, and again he manages 

 to flick his fly aright. The trout takes it 

 almost before it touches the water, and 

 retires under a root with promptitude. The 

 angler vows that this time he will not be 

 done out of his lawful prey, and without 

 pausing to doff boots or stockings he climbs 

 down the bank and commits himself to 

 the deep. He sinks into the mud at once 

 sinks horribly ; but nothing daunted he 

 wades out into the pool until he can reach 

 the root with his net. Then the fly comes 

 away again, and he returns to shore wet, 

 muddy, and furious, and, sad to say, sits 

 down and abuses brooks and brook-fishing 

 for many minutes. Eventually, however, 

 he becomes calmer, reflects that after all he 

 has one good fish in his basket, and decides 

 to go back to the weir-pool and try for 

 another with a worm. This he does, but 

 not getting another bite he soon leaves it 

 and turns to the main brook. 



For about a hundred yards above the 

 floodgate and the weir it is quite a consider- 

 able stream, deep, sluggish, and in parts 

 twenty feet wide. To-day it wears its most 

 lifeless aspect, and his fly falls absolutely 



