Politeness is politeness all the world over, and in loch-fishing it is particularly to be practised. The gentle art is peculiarly adapted for gentlemen,—using the word in its truest sense,—and the true angler will never be mistaken for anything else. In the Club to which we have the honour to belong, there are certain rules which would commend themselves naturally to any one of us; but in order that these may be clear and well defined, they are circulated annually, and are in themselves so admirable that we cannot do better than quote them:—

These rules, as may be inferred, refer to club competitions in particular, but they are made the standard upon all occasions where there is any chance of their becoming applicable. So much indeed have we got into the way of regarding these rules,—strict as they are,—that we observe them even when meeting with strangers on any loch in any part of the kingdom. And pay special attention, if you happen to be trolling in the neighbourhood, never to interfere with the drift on which a fly-fisher is engaged. Nothing is more unbecoming, as it disturbs the water which is his by right, if he has begun to drift; and it is an unwritten rule that the fly-fisher should generally be allowed the first of the ground, as his style of fishing does not make the same commotion as a trolling boat and tackle do. Very few of us but have experienced the annoyance of a minnow-boat crossing our drift when we were fly-fishing; and though we had no redress, and could make no remarks without lowering ourselves to the level of our offenders, we have, like the nigger's parrot, "thought a mighty lot." Do not hesitate to put yourself out of your way to help a neighbour in distress. He may have hooked a large fish and be unprovided with a gaff: if you have one let him have it instantly, taking his directions from which side you are to approach him; and never let the loss of a few minutes, more or less, deter you from following the golden rule of doing to him as you would expect him to do to you were you similarly placed. And, as it sometimes happens where boats are scarce and anglers many, when you are in the same boat with a stranger, see that you confine yourself strictly to your own share of the water, not making casts which endanger "fankling" for the mere sake of covering a little more water with your flies. Should you have a fly that is taking better than any other of your own or his, offer him one; and in general try to make the day's fishing one as much for the cultivation of goodwill and the promotion of good-fellowship as for the mere sake of making a basket. A churlish angler is an unnatural phenomenon, and, thank Providence! they seldom turn up. A man who can look upon the beautiful scenery amid which he takes his pleasure,—and there is none finer in the world than our Scottish lochs and their surroundings,—and not feel grateful to the Giver of all good, and at peace with all mankind, ought to burn his rod, singe his flies, and only associate with men like himself.

If the introduction of this chapter into our book will have the effect of creating a better understanding on the etiquette of loch-fishing between brothers of the angle, the object for which it was written will have been accomplished—and, let us hope, a large amount of goodwill thereby promoted.