202 GOLDEN DAYS 



back with a swish of his massive tail. 

 This grew wearisome after a while, so my 

 friend came and joined me on the bridge, 

 where I was roughly manufacturing Alders, 

 tied on short lengths of dried grass, but 

 with wings fastened flat and not upright. 

 I dropped one over the parapet, and it 

 sailed oiF down the current, looking a 

 clumsy and untidy beast, but the fish had 

 it, and he bolted my next as well. This 

 led to argument. Of course, that fish 

 had just changed his tactics, and was now 

 starting in on a wild career of artificials. 

 Any shape would now suit him. A fly 

 was hurriedly extracted from a japanned 

 box, the barb of the hook nipped ofl^, and 

 an upright Alder followed my last over 

 the parapet. My friend need not have 

 bothered about that hook, for as the fly 

 floated past the fish simply bulged at it, 

 allowing the standard pattern to sail on 

 down the current in bobbing integrity. 

 For some minutes, fly for fly, we played 

 this game, a cheap one as far as I was 

 concerned, the score at the finish being 

 six-love. 



It was then that I suggested that the 



