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Page:Caine - An Angler at Large (1911).djvu/170

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152
AN ANGLER AT LARGE

had not yet put down abandoned its meal and that part of the Clere.

The Blennerhassett followed its wake with an approving eye. "That's a tidy one," he said. I assented. "I saw him yesterday," he said. "So did I," I replied, wondering if he knew of the two-pounder that feeds under the alder just above that hatch. "Have you," he went on, "such a thing as a light about you? I've left my damned box at home." I handed him my box of safeties. He lit a cigarette, absolutely thanking me. I have seldom been more gratified. "Done anything?" he asked. I said that I never did anything. He informed me that he had only been on the water half an hour, but that he had a fish. I murmured my delight. He opened his basket and exhibited a trout. It was plainly undersized. "This," he said, "is the third damned trout I've had out of this damned river."

Now what is to be said of a man who can damn the Clere? Whatever it is I did not say it. But I observed that he seemed to have had a poor season. Indeed, I knew as much, for Joe has kept me abreast of the doings of my fellow-rods. He said he had. I waited for him still further to qualify his season. I was not disappointed. "A damned poor one," he said. "What fly do you generally