FLY FISHING FOR TROUT AND GRAYLING. 263 



the breeze that will soon break up the * mellow reflex ' of the 

 landscape around me, and refill the frame of the mirroi' with* 

 rippled silver. The purple-robed, grey-headed hills seem closing 

 in upon me ; high overhead sweeps the eagle, watchful, yet 

 seemingly unterrified ; and see, by the foot of yon burnie the 

 roe has stolen forth to drink, from his green couch amid the 

 birches and brackens. Or, knee -deep in a ford of the Teme, 

 where he lingers lovingly in many a circling sweep round the 

 ivied cliffs and oak- clad slopes of Downlon, I wave a potent, 

 and in that well-proportioned stream, ' all-commanding wand ' 

 over the rough eddy, sentinelled with watchful trout, or where 

 the quieter run deepens into the haunts of the grayling. Now 

 I seem to hear the hoarse chiding of the Greta, as he chafes 

 along his narrow bed, or the roar of ' old Conway's foaming 

 flood' — now the gentle murmur of some English stream, rippling 

 through sunny meads, is 'rife and perfect in my listening ear.' 



The enjoyment of these local memories is heightened to 

 anglers by association with the stirring details of what is always 

 an interesting, often a most exciting sport. We remember 

 where the monarch of the Test, long coy and recusant, was at 

 length fascinated by the drop of the tiniest of midges over his 

 very snout ; and where, with our gillie's assistance, we contrived 

 to land three lusty trout together, like the elfin in the ballad, 

 ' a' dancing in a string.' We execrate the treacherous stake which 

 had well-nigh robbed us of a good fish and a cast of flies at 

 once, or bless the memory of the smooth sand bank, pleasant 

 to weary feet, where we at last headed, turned, and wound in 

 the salmon who had kept the lead for some three hundred 

 yards down a rocky channel, among stones loose, sharp, and 

 slippery — perilous at once to shins and tackle. How have we 

 enjoyed the early breeze that crisped the stream on a summer 

 morning ; the well-earned rest on a mossy bank in the deep 

 hush of noon, and the homeward stroll through the pensive calm' 

 of evening. 



Independently of the fishes and insects with which the angler 

 is more specially concerned — in themselves a little world of 



