England -- Description and travel; Wales -- Description and travel
An angler friend, who in years gone by had fished the rivers about Cann
Office, told me that on bringing back his catch to the inn one day, by
some mischance his fish got mixed with those of another angler who had
fished another river there. He was somewhat vexed, but the landlord
said he could quite easily sort them out, for the trout of the one
river differed in appearance from the trout of the other--and he sorted
them to the satisfaction of both parties. The same angler friend told
me a story, for the truth of which he vouched. It appears that though
a fairly good fisherman there were days when his sport was poor, and
even he had to return at times with an empty creel, yet another angler
there on those very days generally came back to the inn with a more or
less satisfactory show of fish. So he consulted a native on the matter
who knew, or was supposed to know, all about local conditions. The
native replied that the man mentioned had a special fly to which the
trout rose greedily, but he kept it a secret. One day, however, the man
lost his cast on the branches of a tree; this the native discovered and
recovered, and, for a consideration, handed to my friend. "All's fair
in love--and fishing," so my friend sent the fly to his rod-and-tackle
maker to be copied. The fly was unlike any fly my friend had ever seen,
but he used it with marked success, and during the rest of his stay he
used no other.
At Llanerfyl, a little village beyond Cann Office, I pulled up to
inspect a long printed notice I observed on the church door there. I
found this related to the proposed Disestablishment and Disendowment
of the Welsh Church. A great deal has been said of late, both in
Parliament and out of it, about the neglect of the Welsh parsons of
their parishes in past times.
But to go back to the eighteenth century, here is the story told by
the author of _The Spiritual Quixote_, published in 1772, who in his
Welsh wanderings found "a poor Welsh vicar of the diocese of Llandaff,
sitting in his humble kitchen paring turnips for dinner, while he read
a book and listened to one of his children repeating his lesson." Then
he repeats what the vicar said to him:--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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