THE LITERATURE OF FLY FISHING. 211 



eclipse, then comes another age of great prose, 

 that of Andrew Lang, of Lord Grey and some 

 other living writers. 



Before coming to Stoddart, it is impossible 

 to pass over Scrope, who, though he despised 

 the trout, is too good to be left out. He is one 

 of the very best. Listen to this description of 

 a fisherman who at last gets to the river, after 

 eating his heart out whilst it is in flood. 'At 

 last we started. We had about two or three 

 miles to go to the upper cast, called the "Carry- 

 wheel." As I neared it, and saw the sweep of 

 the gallant river, I stepped out in eagerness 

 till I came to the top of a steep covered with 

 wood gorse and broom ; then I dashed down the 

 rocks, and found myself on the channel, with 

 the rush of a glorious salmon cast before me. 

 Think of this, ye gudgeon fishers ! The rod 

 was put together in haste, — out came the 

 London book; and whilst I selected that 

 misnomer, a metropolitan salmon fly, a huge 

 fish sprang out of the water before me, bright 

 and lusty.' That is a picture we have all seen, 

 and hope to see again. But we shall never 

 again see Harry Otter burning the water, with 

 Charlie and Tom Purdie, fresh from a wigging 

 from Sir Walter Scott for getting drunk. And 

 as fly fishers perhaps it is as well. We might 

 be tempted. 



Stoddart, who came of an old Border family, 

 was born in Edinburgh and lived at Kelso. He 

 fished all his life. His Art of Angling, 1835, 



