added to the charm of a day's trout fishing by the presence of these sweet songsters, ought to be of inestimable worth to him who can in any degree appreciate the beauty of Nature's works.

But however devoted a naturalist our fisherman may be, he cannot help feeling anxious to begin operations, especially as this is his first day's fishing of the season. So let us set him to work so soon as may be; as not only does the day seem favourable, but there is much promise in what is happening only a few yards above the spot where we are standing; for sundry circles have appeared just below a small weed bed, showing that some fish, at any rate, are beginning to move.' Moreover, there is— oh fortunate day !-a gentle wind blowing up-stream; therefore no forcing of the fly will be necessary, and no compulsory cross or down stream fishing need be undertaken. Indeed, our angler seems to have 'happened' on an ideal day for his purpose, though, as fishermen know too well, ideal days as regards weather very often turn out singularly unsatisfactory ones with respect to sport. Still, pleasant atmospheric conditions count for much when fishing, though the bag may not be so heavy as anticipated when the rod was first put together in the morning.

But while these reflections have been proceeding,

the ten-feet six-inches-long rod has been made ready, the reel fixed, and a delicate cast attached to the line. And now the all-important question has been reached, what fly shall first be tried on this eventful day? Shall it be olive-dun, olive-quill-gnat, red-quill, alder, or what? Much must of course depend on the part of England in which our imaginary stream is placed; but as it is necessary to generalise, let us suggest to our fisherman that an olive-dun tied with a slight gold twist on the body is as likely a fly as any to attract a trout. So on with it at once. Delicately fashioned, with wings gaily cocked, it is as like as possible to the small duns which are seen dancing about in the sunshine, though it does not appear that as yet there are many floating on the

water.

Before launching it on its voyage of deception, however, one more ceremony has to be observed; not in this instance a libation, but a very slight touch of refined scentless paraffin oil given to the body and hackles of the fly, so as to make it float better, and in consequence reduce to a minimum the necessity of constant casts in the air to dry it.

And now having completed all preparations, and having made certain that the cast was thoroughly soaked before being attached to the line, let us

accompany our angler to the spot where he proposes to start operations.

It must be here premised that in this particular river the trout are carefully preserved, are large in size, and wonderfully well educated as regards taking care of themselves. Therefore much caution must be observed when proceeding against them. But see! our friend, after standing still for some moments, during which time he has been steadily gazing upstream, has sunk on to his knees, and, keeping his rod low and behind him, crawled a few yards towards the bend of the river where the first rises were noticed. At least two fish are moving there now, the nearer one being apparently the larger; which is fortunate, as thus no disturbance of the water is probable, which would have been the case had the reverse happened and our fisherman been obliged to try for the smaller trout first. If hooked, his struggles would in all probability have scared the other, bigger, fish away; whereas it does not matter if the little one be alarmed and retires.

Before the first cast is made it may be worth while to mark carefully the peculiarities of the water wherein are the rising trout. They are lying in a kind of small angle of the river close to the side farthest from the angler. A couple of yards above them is a