xiv A SUBURBAN FISHERY 243 



rivalled it about as much as a partridge 

 rivals a golden pheasant, and I went on my 

 course saddened and caught nothing. But 

 that brother understood the nature of our 

 trout. 



The reader may have noted a little while 

 ago that I mentioned two of them by name, 

 but he must not be surprised. All our 

 more considerable fish have their names, 

 though we cannot exactly say that they 

 answer to them. Black Henry, for example, 

 is a kind of landmark (or should I say water- 

 mark?), and he lies always on a little patch 

 of gravel between the weeds, at the tail of 

 the principal shallow of our water. By 

 Black Henry you can tell whether the river 

 is high or low. If it is high he will be a 

 mere dark shadow on the bottom ; if it is 

 low you can count his spots though there 

 are other ways of ascertaining the state of 

 the river, of course. Black Henry also marks 

 the lowest point of the shallow where you 

 may expect to find a trout ; just as Long 

 William up by the bridge marks the highest 

 the end of our water, in fact. Black Henry 

 is somewhere between four and five pounds 

 in weight. Long William is much heavier, 



