VIAT. I have him now; but he is gone down towards the bottom. I cannot see what he is, yet he should be a good fish by his weight; but he makes no great stir.

PISC. Why then, by what you say, I dare venture to assure you 'tis a Grayling, who is one of the deadest-hearted fishes in the world; and the bigger he is, the more easily taken. Look you, now you see him plain; I told you what he was. Bring hither that landing-net, boy. And now, Sir, he is your own, and believe me a good one; sixteen inches long I warrant him: I have taken none such this year.

VIAT. I never saw a Grayling before look so black. PISC. Did you not? Why then let me tell you, that you never saw one before in right season; for then a Grayling is very black about his head, gills, and down his back, and has his belly of a dark gray, dappled with black spots, as you see this is; and I am apt to conclude, that from thence he derives his name of Umber. Though I must tell you this fish is past his prime, and begins to decline, and was in better season at Christmas than he is now. But move on, for it grows towards dinner-time; and there is a very great and fine stream below, under that rock, that fills the deepest pool in all the river, where you are almost sure of a good fish.

VIAT. Let him come, I'll try a fall with him; but I had thought, that the Grayling had been always in season with the Trout, and had come in and gone out with him.