THE MAYFLY. 23 



which he finds so much amusement. Perhaps if I had 

 known this earlier I should not now be trespassing upon 

 his preserves. Quite Arcadian the place must be ; his 

 rods, used beyond doubt last evening, he has left by the 

 river, and they lie without attempt at concealment on the 

 wet grass. 



It is a very likely locality for a good trout, and circum- 

 scribed as the bounds are, there are deeps, eddies, and 

 scours in excellent condition. More by way of wetting the 

 line than anything else, I cast up towards a sweeping 

 shallow, around whose edge the pure silver-streaked water 

 swirls sharply, and at the second throw rise, and, I am free 

 to confess, to my surprise hook a fish. The accident 

 being attributed by the landlord to masterly skill, he stands 

 by admiringly and excitedly with the net. The trout, how- 

 ever, is in no hurry, and runs straight into a forest of 

 weeds, from which it seems impossible to extricate him 

 witliout loss of tackle and time. The landlord rushing 

 to the cottage for a pole brings with him "the General," 

 half dressed, and in a pitiable state of alarm and anxiety. 

 Almost with tears and in broken accents he says : 



"I've been working three days for that fish, sir, early 

 -and late; he rose once yesterday, and twice the day 

 before." 



Poor old General ! I feel sorry indeed, but sorrow 

 •cannot undo the unconscious wrong I have perpetrated ! 

 After tremendous exertions with a pole and hay-rake we 

 loosen the tangled weeds, and the trout comes in on his 

 ■side, not the patriarch we had supposed, but a burly little 

 fellow nearly as large as a Yarmouth bloater. Then " the 

 General" rejoices, and I too rejoice on hearing that "that 



