12 WATERSIDE SKETCHES. 



us, I may ply the fly to some purpose. But what with 

 poaching, the increase of anglers, and vile pollution every- 

 where, trout, alas ! except in very remote parts, are be- 

 coming scarcer and scarcer every year, and it requires the 

 utmost skill to bring the fish to basket. Unfortunately 

 this streamlet is poorly stocked, and there is not a solitary 

 tree or bush to cover its banks. On the other hand, the 

 water is neither too high nor too low — an inch makes a 

 vast difference here — and the factory above has been good 

 enough not to pour out its discolouring refuse to-day. 

 But I must creep to the water and move stealthily. 



As it is a small stream, of course, on that strange law 

 of contraries which guides the angler in these matters, 

 full sized flies must be employed — the invaluable March 

 brown as stretcher, the cowdung (considering the warm 

 wind) for dropper number two, and the blue dun number 

 three. You cannot detect the ghost of a rise anywhere, 

 and cast after cast ends in the same monotonous disap- 

 pointment. Try every art within your knowledge, still no 

 success. Put on the stonefly for the blue dun ; the result 

 is the same, although the flies fall liglit as snowflakes on 

 the ripple. 



At last I have carefully covered every yard of the short 

 length of streamlet at our disposal, fishing according to 

 orthodox rules, and — pardon the egotism — fishing it tho- 

 roughly. I am too much accustomed to the certain un- 

 certainties of angling to be disheartened, although it must 

 be confessed I am anxious not to return to the brother- 

 hood empty-handed. Now let me be unorthodox. One 

 of the lessons I was taught in the early days was not to 

 use a red spinner till May. The red palmer is permissible 



