[_They proceed to the river_.] HAL.—Now, my friends, I give up the two best pools to you till one o’clock; and I shall amuse myself above and below—probably with trout fishing. As there is a promise of a mixed day, with—what is rare in this country—a good deal of sunshine, I will examine your flies a little, and point out those I think likely to be useful; or rather, I will show you my flies, and, as you all have duplicates of them, you can each select the fly which I point out, and place in it a part of the book where it may easily be found. First: when the cloud is on, I advise the use of one of these three golden twisted flies, with silk bodies, orange, red and pale blue, with red, orange, and gray hackle, golden pheasant’s hackle for tail, and kingfisher’s blue and golden pheasant’s brown hackle under the wing; beginning with the brightest fly, and changing to the darker one. Should the clouds disappear, and it become bright, change your flies for darker ones, of which I will point out three:—a fly with a brown body and a red cock’s hackle, one with a dun body and black hackle and light wing, and one with a black body, a hackle of the same colour, and a brown mallard’s wing. All these flies have, you see, silver twist round their bodies, and all kingfisher’s feather under the wing, and golden pheasant’s feather for the tail. For the size of your flies, I recommend the medium size, as the water is small to-day; but trying all sizes, from the butterfly size of a hook of half an inch in width, to one of a quarter. Now, Physicus, cast your orange fly into that rapid at the top of the pool; I saw a large fish run there this moment. You fish well, were common trout your object; but, in salmon fishing, you must alter your manner of moving the fly. It must not float quietly down the water; you must allow it to sink a little, and then pull it back by a gentle jerk—not raising it out of the water,—and then let it sink again, till it has been shown in motion, a little below the surface, in every part of your cast. That is right,—he has risen. PHYS.—I hold him. He is a noble fish! HAL.—He is a large grilse, I see by his play; or a young salmon, of the earliest born this spring. Hold him tight; he will fight hard. PHYS.—There! he springs out of the water! Once, twice, thrice, four times! He is a merry one! HAL.—He runs against the stream, and will soon be tired,—but do not hurry him. Pull hard now, to prevent him from running round that stone. He comes in. I will gaff him for you. I have him! A goodly fish of this tide. But see, Poietes has a larger fish at the bottom of the great pool, and is carried down by him almost to the sea. POIET.—I cannot hold him! He has run out all my line.