PSYCHOLOGICAL 197 



move, but before that I had a chance of testing the steel 

 centre, and I soon persuaded its owner to let me lend him 

 a reel of suitable size, carrying a line of somewhere nearer 

 a suitable weight. But even with that I found it difficult 

 to achieve any degree of precision. It was, however, the 

 best I could do for my friend, and I had to leave it at that. 

 I was not, however, surprised to know that, when the fish 

 began to rise, one after another was put down, and not 

 one was accurately covered. I tried the rod myself and 

 could do nothing with it, though there was a slight favouring 

 upstream breeze. My friend implored me to cast with 

 my own rod, and the very first chuck put my Blue-winged 

 Olive two inches above the fish, and next second I was 

 turning a well-hooked pound-and-three-quarter trout down- 

 stream. Once again, later, I let myself be persuaded 

 into casting to a rising fish just above my friend, and 

 again my little absurdity put the fly to an inch, and I 

 hooked a fish of one pound ten ounces. 



I am not quoting this instance to vaunt any superior 

 skill — for with my friend's rod my skill was much on a 

 par with his own — but to afford a test example of what 

 is real adequacy in a rod as distinguished from mere power. 

 My friend's rod was undoubtedly far more powerful than 

 mine. Given enough backing to one's line, one need not 

 have been afraid to handle a salmon on it, but in point 

 of adequacy for the purpose of chalk-stream fishing, dry 

 and wet, it was not in the same street with what a local 

 angler on the Tweed once called " Yon fulish wee gad." 

 It occurred to me, therefore, to examine and, if possible, to 

 define what constitutes adequacy in a fly rod, and it seems 

 to me that the boast of many an angler that his rod is of 

 special power may be a foolish one. It is not so much 

 power as exquisite adaptation of means to end which must 

 be aimed at. Ends vary on different waters and under 



