24 HALF-AN-HOUR WITH THE KILL-DEVIL. [PART I. 
The first I ever tried was one of the old 
mother-o’-pearl sort, spinning from the tail; the 
water being the Wandle at Hackbridge near 
Carshalton. It was a brilliant morning in June 
when I turned out between four and five, and 
the mowers were just setting to work as I crossed 
the meadows. I began with the fly, but it 
was of no use. The water was like glass, not 
a cloud over the sun, and the weather-cock 
pointing to the North-east, though not a breath 
of wind was perceptible. Finding that I could 
not get a rise, I at length, from curiosity, put 
on the kill-devil, which I happened to have in 
my book, to see how it would work. I at first 
threw into a small pool, an off-shoot from the 
river, just above the mill, where I should not 
have expected to find any fish at all. Instantly 
however I had one, a little chap of about a third 
of a pound. I put him back, and, not having had 
time to see the spinning of the bait, cast again 
into the same place. Again the result was the 
same, and again a third time, the fish being about 
the same size and duly returned. I then went to 
the river, and never before or since did I see any- 
thing like the effect of that bait. It seemed per- 
fectly irresistible. No matter how I threw, (and I 
