208 TROUT FISHING 



itself, much too small for its bed. Then, 

 in June let us say, there are signs of a 

 change in the weather. The sportsmen 

 in the village become alert, and vie with 

 one another in prophecies of flood. The 

 mercury in the blacksmith's glass has 

 been creeping down for days ; shepherds 

 come in to the weekly market and report 

 signs of storm in the behaviour of their 

 flocks ; the veterinary surgeon, who is all 

 over the county, says that when driving 

 home late last night he saw sheet light- 

 ning on the southern uplands, towards 

 the sea. 



Into their gardens all the villagers go 

 to dig for worms, and soon each has a 

 few hundred snugly bestowed in a bag 

 of moss damped with cream. The sun 

 goes down behind long banks of motion- 

 less thick clouds ; but, alas, the rain holds 

 off". Next morning the earth is still dry ; 

 but all the sky is gray, and the ancient 

 weathercocks, which are rather rusty 

 and not responsive to trifling airs, show 

 that during the night there has been a 



