252 THE WAY OF A TROUT WITH A FLY 



from that stretch — two pounds four ounces, two pounds 

 one ounce, and two pounds three ounces. 



He was also the last fish of the evening; for though I 

 waited till after the stroke of ten, not another dimple, not 

 a sound of a suck rewarded my patience. 



So I went back to the bottom of the bend, where Keeper 

 Humfry waited in the boat to ferry me over to the other 

 side, to the fishing-hut, to a much-needed drink, and the 

 short road home. 



* * * * * 



I wanted the short road, for the strap was quite uncom- 

 fortably tight across my chest, with within an ounce of 

 fourteen and a half pounds of fish to tighten it. 



***** 

 It was a good evening — four brace, and every fish on 

 the first cast. I have not been able to make out why I 

 had a bad night after it. 



***** 



Oh, ah, yes ! about the following day ! On further 

 consideration I draw a veil over the following day. I 

 leave it — appropriately — blank. 



MY STICKING-PLASTER TROUT. 



What great events from little causes spring ! If the 

 reel-seat of a May-fly rod of mine had fitted the reel which 

 was bought to go with it this story would have had a 

 different ending, and I should not have had that in my 

 pocket at the critical moment which was destined to 

 convert disaster into — but I am beginning the story at the 

 wrong end ! 



I had killed quite a nice trout — something better than 

 two pounds — that July evening. I had spotted another, 

 and, I thought, a better, feeding under the far bank, and 



