A .Spring Ramble by the Itchen. 459 



acquiring water as fast as it came into the market, he is 

 now the proprietor of several miles of fine trout fishing. 

 Happily I find him amongst the stuffed fish, flies, and 

 angling stock in his shop in the peaceful square, not far 

 from the City Cross, and induce him to don his fishing- 

 boots, take his rod, and be my guide during the afternoon. 

 But he decisively warns me to expect no sport, for the 

 Itchen trout have a keen sense of the proprieties, and at 

 this time of the year will not rise after two of the clock. 

 They do not trouble themselves, however, seriously about 

 the icy wind, and are not necessarily disconcerted at the 

 hail; but as to times and seasons in other respects they, 

 like wilful women, will have their own way. 



By the bridge at the bottom of the town there is a stretch 

 of water free to the public, and the private soldiers from 

 the garrison sometimes of a summer evening come down 

 and mingle with the civilians in whipping the river. If 

 these free fishers used the fly only the sport would be much 

 better, for the stream is of such a nature, and in such a 

 position between the upper and lower waters, that the 

 largest fish are to be found there. But all sorts of unfair 

 means were at one time employed to capture the trout ; and 

 perhaps, after all, we should not be too hard upon a poor 

 fellow who knows that a three-pound trout is lying under a 

 certain bend, in the bank, and that he will be three shillings 

 the richer if he can transfer it to his bag. So he tries worm 

 and minnow, as he has a perfect right to do; but -he 

 attempted a process locally, known as " snatching," which 

 was reprehensible and not to be endured. These body- 

 snatchers lashed three large hooks together back to back, 

 and weighting them with a bullet or piece of window lead, 

 threw the apparatus over the fish, and fouled it if they 

 could. It was a long time before the keepers could under- 



