196 THE WAY OF A TROUT WITH A FLY 



In the interval I recall the successes (and they were 

 many and great) of an angler who used to write over the 

 signature " Red Quill," and his insistence on the virtues 

 of a light reel line, with resulting delicacy. It is true that 

 he lived near the water, and could practically pick his days 

 with favouring wind or none. 



For those, therefore, who are in that happy position I 

 would say: Stick to a light line with a rod suited to it. 

 To those who must take their weather as they find it I 

 would say: Do not overdo your weight of line, or make 

 too great sacrifice of delicacy to accuracy. 



THE TRIUMPH OF THE INADEQUATE. 



Not long since I was entertaining a comparative beginner 

 at chalk-stream angling upon a water which it has for years 

 been my privilege to fish. He, poor man, endowed with a 

 superfluity of this world's goods, had, under guidance which 

 I refrain from characterizing, expended many shekels 

 in the purchase of an awful steel-centred column in split 

 cane which he called a rod, of a reel of puny dimensions, 

 and of a line so light that the rod could get no grip of it. 

 There was another angler on the water on that occasion, 

 and, as it is our wont, both he and I carried ridiculous little 

 five-ounce toys, with which, nevertheless, we manage 

 to secure our share of fish. I had offered my friend the 

 loan of a similar little stick — with reel and line to suit it — 

 but he politely declined, feeling more confidence in the 

 adequacy of his own equipment. 



" On the water," said the Other Rod, " we most of us 

 use the most absurdly inadequate little rods." "Why ?" 

 queried my friend of the steel centre. " Oh, we like it," 

 said the Other Rod, " and we occasionally catch a trout 

 that way." 



It was not till near one o'clock that the fish began to 



