REMINISCENCES OF 
BY RICHARD 
At our home (in fair Devon) that had 
been given the name of Paradise by 
kind friends, and which was truly so 
until the angel of death closed the 
mother’s eyes; all things were bright 
and pleasant, and trouble never en- 
tered. 
In a walled garden, choice fruits and 
flowers grew, and in hot-houses located 
there, grapes, pines, peaches and other 
tropical fruits and exotics abounded. 
Here there were two fish-ponds, con- 
taining trout of various sizes. Although 
a little boy, of scarcely eight summers, 
the feeding of the fish, morning and 
evening, was my delight. They had 
become so tame that the largest would 
feed out of my hand. He was a terror 
to the smaller ones, and would rush at 
them savagely when they attempted to 
share the spoil. 
My first practical experience 
about this time. 
was 
Some half-mile from 
the house was the mill-dam; the stream 
was not large, but the tidal water came 
up from the sound, and would bring 
with it fish of various sorts. 
My elder brothers took me on one oc- 
casion to fish at the dam by moonlight. 
The tide was flowing up the stream, 
the flood gates were open, and we com- 
menced operations. The soft and sil- 
very, sheen of the moon upon: the 
water, and the flashing of the silvery 
smelt, as they came up in schools with 
the tide, was indeed beautiful to look 
at. We fished till the turn of the tide, 
and walked home as the day was break- 
ing. 
I had caught exactly twelve dozen 
EARLY 
FISHING IN ENGLAND: 
NEEDLE: 
very fine smelt, more than my fishing 
basket would hold, and had beaten my 
brothers and those who had been fish- 
ing at the dam with us. Thus, insensi- 
bly, as it were, I learned ‘fish lore” 
by practical experience, and by study 
from books that kind friends would 
give me, that treated of natural history 
of the flora and fauna in all its details. 
I told you, long since, that for ten 
years.I carried in my vest pocket a 
powerful microscope of three lens. It 
was indeed a pocket companion, and 
one that gave mea world of pleasure, 
and I would add knowledge also, as I 
roamed through my favorite counties, 
and Cornwall. Living as it 
in the midst of salt and fresh 
water, the opportunities given me for 
following my favorite sports were man- 
ifold. Sometimes we would pull or 
sail out to the sound near the ‘‘ break- 
water,” that gigantic work that gives 
safety to the shipping (inside) from the 
roaring waves and tempests of the En- 
glish channel. Here, fish in endless 
varieties were to be caught from the 
‘‘King of Fishes,” the salmon and the 
princely turbot, to the poor man’s fish 
the hake and its congener the pilchard, 
both equally valuable, the two last es- 
pecially so, being caught in abundance. 
Should the fisherman wish to extend 
his operations, let him go off to the 
‘‘whiting grounds,’ some five miles 
southeast from the Eddystone light 
house, where he may chance to secure 
some few dozens of this highly prized 
and delicate fish, especially valuable 
for the invalid and the sick room. But 
Devon 
were 
