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AN EVENING RISE 



IT has been a stiflingly hot day in the 

 Itchen Valley. The cold north-east winds 

 of May that sometimes try one's skill to the 

 utmost in up-stream casting seem to be very 

 far away in a long-distant past. The glory 

 of June has gone by, with its well-defined 

 day-rise, when trout were easy to take. On 

 this July day of scorching heat, fishing has 

 been very difficult and very strenuous. Not a 

 rise has showed on the surface. One or two 

 little trout have leapt out of the water, always 

 a bad sign for fishermen. It has been a case 

 of hard and continuous work in a hot sun, 

 plodding about in heavy waders through deep 

 mud and occasionally peering through the sedges 

 on the chance of seeing a good trout looking 

 sufficiently alert for it to be worth while to 

 drop down-stream and cast for him. Not one 

 sizeable fish would look at anything but the 

 smallest fly, and a red quill on a " 000 " hook, 



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