IN THE BEGINNING II 
of abode deliberately picked out, how often 
alternatives of career selected, all on account of 
“a little bit of fishing!” One can imagine 
clergymen, devoted to their calling, liking the 
scene of their labours all the more if they can get 
a day’s fishing now and again, perchance even 
allowing preferment to go by them for the sake 
of it. It is the same with all men who have 
learned to love fishing as boys. Rarely is it given 
up deliberately, that is to say, of choice. The 
joys and sorrows of it all have woven too strong 
a spell for that. Even in middle age men take 
to the craft, and some of them become not 
only proficient, but as keen as those who began 
in youth. In the Union or Dominion of South 
Africa a goodly number of colonial-born farmers 
learnt to fish with fly when trout began to thrive 
in rivers near their homesteads. Now the world 
holds no greater enthusiasts. Their veld-craft 
has helped them in mastering the art of stalking 
a trout, when cover is available. Good luck and 
tight lines attend all anglers, at whatever age 
they begin! But happiest are those who become 
angling novices not long after they can toddle, 
and who stick to it year in, year out, progressing 
by the natural stages of boyhood from the scramble 
after jack-sharps in a puddle, to the thrilling 
mysteries of float-fishing for ruffe or perch or 
roach, to the first raptures of casting a fly and 
landing a matchless trout, and perhaps at last to 
the goal of ambition, battles in great rivers with 
silver salmon. 
