He writes to him, 24 May 1842:--“I certainly have enjoyed the Teign fishing as much as anyone, for besides the fishing I always so much enjoyed the scenery--particularly on that part above and below Fingle Bridge. In my early days I seldom went on any other part, but used to begin at Whiddon, fish down, and return to Fingle; and home over the woods.” After a day’s fishing there, 12 April 1849, my father notes in his diary:--“My father walked up Fingle Hill without resting or feeling fatigued, although sixty in a few days time.” That was the age at which my father died, and the age that I have now attained; and I cannot walk up that interminable hill without an effort. My father fished there sometimes, and sometimes in the Dart near Post Bridge, but much more often in the Bovey and the Wrey, as they were so much nearer. He also liked scenery as well as fishing; and there is as good scenery on the Bovey under Lustleigh Cleave as on the Teign at Fingle Bridge. He also fished in many of the trout-streams in the Alps and Pyrenees and Ardennes; and in 1858 and other years he went to Muggendorf for fishing in the Wiesent, and to Lambach and Ischl for the Traun. The people used to ask for flies, but very soon found that he owed less to flies than to his way of casting them. My mother fished with him, and got many good fish; but she never thought the sport was worth the journey and the discomfort in the smaller inns. I remember my brother at one of them: he made no comment of his own, but just quoted Shakespeare:--“Now am I in Ardennes: when I was at home, I was in a better place.” They tried the Wiesent and the Traun again in 1873, but it was no longer what it used to be--ten or a dozen trout about fifteen inches long. There was too much fishing, and few fish were left. I went to Munich, while they were at Muggendorf, but was at Ischl with them. And at Ischl it was curious to see how casually the Emperor Francis Joseph went strolling round the place in shooting-clothes, the Crown Prince Rudolph with him. At first I took them for the squire and his son. By all accounts there have always been better fish in the Wrey than ever came out of it with rod and fly. At the present time--June 1917--there are two big otters in it close by here, and I presume they have not come for nothing. On 6 May 1844 my grandfather writes to my father:--“I conjecture the poachers have not let this fine weather pass without dipping their nets for some.” And on 10 December 1848 he writes:--“They have been very busy lately in taking all they can, but Mr ***** got foul of some last week, and took their spears from them, and told them, if again caught, he will prosecute them.”