ing to get tired of the fly,
but are still to be caught by working hard for them. The "alder" will
often do great execution at this time, and a small blue dun is sometimes
very killing in the morning or evening.

After the "green-drake" has lived his short life and disappeared, there
is a lull in the fishing, and the sportsman may with advantage take
himself off to London to see the Oxford and Cambridge cricket match. All
through July and August, when the water gets low and clear, the best and
largest fish may be taken from an hour before sunset up to eleven
o'clock at night by the red palmer. Although it savours somewhat of
poaching, I confess to a weakness for evening and night fishing. The
cool water meadows, the setting sun, with its golden glow on the water,
add a peculiar charm to fishing at this time of day in the hot summer
months. And then--the splash of your fish as you hook him! How magnified
is the sound in the dim twilight, when you cannot see, but can only hear
and feel your quarry! And what satisfaction to know that that great
"logger-headed" two-pounder, that was devouring goodness knows how many
yearlings and fry daily, is safe out of the water and in your basket!

On rainy days in these months good sport may be had with the wet fly;
and in September a yellow dun, or a fly that imitates the wasp, will
kill, if only you can keep out of sight, and place a well-dried fly
right on the fish's nose.

The dry fly and up stream is of course the orthodox method of fishing in
this as in other south-country chalk or limestone streams. No flogging
the water indiscriminately all the way up, but marking your fish down,
and stalking him, is the real game. For those who fish "wet" sport is
not so good as it used to be, owing to the "schoolmaster being abroad"
amongst trout as well as amongst men; but on certain windy days this
method is the only one possible. There is a good deal of prejudice
against the "chuck-and-chance-it" style among the advocates of the
dry-fly method of fishing. That a man who fishes with a floating fly
should be set down as a better sportsman than one who allows his fly to
sink is, to my thinking, a narrow-minded argument, and one, moreover,
that is not borne out by facts. True, in some clear chalk streams the
fish can only be killed with the dry fly; and in such cases it is
unsportsmanlike to thrash the water--in the first place, because there
is no chance of catching fish, and in the second,