96 THE TROUT ARE RISING 
you see a movement towards the fly then go in 
for a lightning strike, even if you do not know 
what is going to happen. It occurred to me 
about this period (October, 1919) that railway- 
men ought to be good at this kind of fishing. 
What of the plumber and the cartage con- 
tractor? The P. plied his bottom fishing dili- 
gently, and at last a jubilant “ I’ve got a grayling !” 
brought joy to the bankside. Alas! that gray- 
ling did a quick change into a 1 lb. chub, a fish 
for which boots at the hotel had a liking. He 
was made very welcome. The C.C. a little later 
called for a landing net. He had on a good 
grayling, which stuck to its colours, and the 
C.C’s. honest heart throbbed with pride and 
delight. It was the first fish he had ever had 
on, let alone caught. Ah, that was premature 
. . that fatal slack line! But afterwards he said 
that he had learnt a useful lesson. 
One surprise was in stofe. The P. said, 
diffidently, that he would so like to be able to 
throw a fly. Therefore one ripe October after- 
noon on the Ledwyche he was rigged up with 
fly-rod and line, without a cast. The elements 
of instruction were given to him, and the result 
was excellent. Usually with novices the line 
gets there in penny numbers, and is picked up 
like fire brigade hose. For thirty years has one 
seen the same good old mess made of it. But 
this time, with the Deptford plumber trying his 
*prentice hand as fly fisherman, everything seemed 
to go right. With rod well up, the cast was 
