HAL.—He is not a fish to kill, throw him back, he is much under 2lbs., and, as I ought to have told you before, we are not allowed to kill any fish of less size; and I am sure we shall all have more than we ought to carry away even of this size. Pray put him into the well, or rather give him to the fisherman to turn back into the water. POIET.—I cannot say I approve of this manner of fishing: I lose my labour. HAL.—As the object of your fishing, I hope, is innocent amusement, you can enjoy this, and show your skill in catching the animal; and if every fish that took the May-fly were to be killed, there would be an end to the sport in the river, for none would remain for next year. PHYS.—The number of flies seems to increase as the day advances, and I never saw a more animated water scene: all nature seems alive; even the water-wagtails have joined the attack upon these helpless and lovely creations from the waters. HAL.—It is now one o’clock; and between twelve and three is the time when the May-fly rises with most vigour. It is a very warm day, and with such a quantity of fly, every fish in the river will probably be soon feeding. See, below the wear, there are two or three large trout lately come out; and from the quiet way in which they swallow their prey, and from the size of the tranquil undulation that follows their rise, I suspect they are the giants of this river. Try if you cannot reach them: one is near the bank in a convenient place for a throw, for the water is sufficiently rough to hide the deception, and these large fish do not take the fly well in calm water, though with natural flies on the hook they might all be raised. POIET.—I have him! Alas! he has broken me, and carried away half my bottom line. He must have been a fish of 7 or 8lbs. What a dash he made! He carried off my fly by main force. HAL.—You should have allowed your reel to play and your line to run: you held him too tight. POIET.—He was too powerful a fish for my tackle; and even if I had done so, would probably have broken me by running amongst the weeds. HAL.—Let me tell you, my friend, you should never allow a fish to run to the weeds, or to strike across the stream; you should carry him always down stream, keeping his head high, and in the current. If in a weedy river you allow a large fish to run up stream, you are almost sure to lose him. There, I have hooked the companion of your lost fish on the other side of the stream,—a powerful creature: he tries, you see, to make way to the weeds, but I hold him tight. POIET.—I see you are obliged to run with him, and have carried him safely through the weeds. HAL.—I have him now in the rapids on the shallow, and I have no fear of losing him, unless he strikes the hook out of his mouth. POIET.—He springs again and again.