too clear for his task. The
fish saw him, and darted away, and when his keen eyes followed them to
their lair, they refused to be tempted out by any bait he threw.

"Just my luck when I come fishing," muttered Ralph, as he waded slowly
on, picking his way among the stones. "There's always something wrong;
either it's too hot, or it's too cold, or there's too much water, or
there isn't enough, or the wind's somewhere in the wrong quarter, or I
haven't got the right bait; and so sure as I was to meet old Master
Rayburn, picking flowers on the bank, he'd say: `Ah, you should have
come yesterday, or last week, and then you'd have caught a fish at every
throw.'

"Stupid work, fishing," he said, half-aloud, when he had waded as far as
he could without getting wet, for the water had suddenly deepened and
curved round out of sight, all calm and still beneath the boughs shading
it on either side. "Seems very easy, though, when you watch old
Rayburn. He always knows where to throw."

For the moment, he was ready to give up, but feeling that his sister
would be disappointed if he went back empty-handed, he waded out, and
taking a short cut across the horseshoe formed by the stream, he reached
it again beyond the deeps, where it was possible to wade once more; and
before entering the bubbling waters, he stood looking upward, thinking
how beautiful it all was, with the flashing water gurgling and swirling
round the great stones which dotted the bed. Every here and there the
sides were glowing with patches of the deep golden, yellow globe-flower;
a little farther on, there was a deeper spot with a patch of the great
glistening leaves of the water-lily, not yet in bloom; and as he stepped
down into the water, there was a flutter from a bird seated on a dead
twig, and a flash of azure light gleamed over the river, as the
disturbed kingfisher darted upstream, to be watched till it disappeared.

Flies danced up and down above the water, and every now and then one
dropped on the surface, with its wings closed, and sailed downward like
a tiny boat. Bees swept by with a humming, slumberous sound; and among
the sedges at the sides, where the golden irises displayed their lovely
blossoms, the thin-bodied dragon-flies, steel-blue or green, darted on
transparent wing, pairs every now and then encountering fiercely with a
faint rustling of wings, and battling for a few seconds, when one would
dart away with the other in pursuit.

Ralp