Another time I had been fishing late, with a white moth, and, on leaving off, twisted the gut and fly round my hat. Getting through a hedge the gut caught in a bramble, and the fly went into my scalp, and the more I pulled the worse it was. The same friend was with me, and helped me out of it. We then went to a doctor, who snipped away the hair and cut the hook out.
It is not very often that an eel is taken with a fly, but I was once fishing with a Palmer, and, being tired, very carelessly laid my rod down with the fly in the water, which, of course, sank to the bottom. I strolled about, and coming back picked up the rod, and found an eel attached, which I landed.
Finally, fly-fishing may be considered one of the best of sports, because it can be followed late in life. Most devotees of sport, when the nerves become shaky and the eyes grow dim, must content themselves with thinking or talking of what they did in their youth. But it is not so with the fly-fisher. He can still throw a fly and play a trout, better perhaps than in his youth, because of his greater experience; and, when in the down-hill of life he looks back on the hopes and anticipations of his boyhood days, it must be gratifying to feel that the times spent among the beauties of nature in exercising the angler's art have been the most enjoyable parts of his life, and that he is none the worse man for having obeyed the precepts and followed the example of our grand old past master, Izaak Walton.
It is doubtful whether the gratification of taking fish is equal to that which results from the recital of the achievement, and describing to a sympathetic audience the method and tackle by which the prey has been ensnared. Walton and his friends, after a long day, loved to meet at some village alehouse, and fight their battles o'er again; and in the present day one of the most enjoyable parts of the evening spent at an Angling Society is when the chairman asks, "Has any one been fishing?" and the members recount their piscatorial experiences since the last meeting. Any one unaccustomed to such meetings would be surprised at the knowledge of rivers, the country, the habits, and the haunts of particular kinds of fish and insects, the various sorts of baits and tackle to be used, and all the technical information which the London angler displays on such occasions; and this broader view of nature and life is not the least of the benefits derived from following the piscatorial art.