20 GOLDEN DAYS 



over the bank a good trout backed like a 

 phantom into obscurity. He had seen 

 me. But there were fish in the stream ! 

 In the next run above I marked rings in 

 the shadow of a reed-bed. There was a 

 hatch of fly gaily sailing down the ripple. 

 With my landing-net 1 ladled for a speci- 

 men, and eventually secured one — a small 

 dark midge. There was no black fly small 

 enough in my case, but a small Black 

 Gnat with wings cut off made a sufficient 

 replica. This was soon touched up with 

 paraffin and attached to my lightest cast. 

 Then began that first moment of adven- 

 ture, which is, perhaps, most delightful in 

 retrospect and from the chimney-corner. 

 To the average human being the actual 

 experience is altogether too critical. He 

 finds himself with curiously tremulous 

 knees, fishing hurriedly and very badly, 

 catching his line in each overhanging 

 branch, and convinced that every moment 

 will bring the rise to an end. It was no 

 easy fishing this in water clear as gin, 

 where the slightest " drag " put the fish 

 down ; but there were plenty of fly up, 

 and the trout were feeding ! A circle in 



