A SUMMER'S DAY. 351 



thither in shoals, innocent of fear and of Esox Indus, other- 

 wise pike, and a dread enemy of such small fry. And a lazy 

 perch and one or two trout swim idly past us, as if, like 

 ourselves, feeling the present to be a day of enmii in the 

 water. I can discern a big jack floating in the water within 

 the aqueous arbour formed by the roots of the poplar which 

 has fallen close by, undermined by the winter floods of the 

 river. The fish is perfectly still, save for an occasional 

 whisk of his tail and a lazy, deprecating movement of his 

 breast fins. The sight of the jack arouses within one 

 instincts of piscatorial kind, and suggests thoughts of line 

 and hook, and of other appliances familiar to disciples of 

 ancient Izaak. I think of certain friends of mine who would 

 regard my present chance of Waltonian distinction with 

 feelings of envy. But I ask myself, Cui bono ? I am con- 

 tent, and so I presume is my piscine friend below ; and 

 I am hardly in a mood to analyse the argument which 

 would prompt the enticement of the jack from his hiding- 

 place. I find consolation, moreover, in the fact that the 

 jack is no"child, but a rather aged member of his race ; and 

 that in all probability, having been often tempted by 

 juvenile and other anglers, who swarm in these parts, he 

 is likely to be a wary individual, who would successfully 

 manoeuvre my bait off the hook, and afterwards swim 

 off in triumph with a supercilious wave of his tail at 

 the non-success of my unskilled venture. So philosophy 

 prevails, and I continue to be edified by the sight of his 

 complacent bearing in his watery arbour, whilst mankind 

 above him suffers from mundane conditions at large and from 

 the heat in particular. 



Thinking of friends piscatorial has set one's thoughts off 

 at a tangent. What an inveterate gossip old Izaak was after 

 all, and how lovingly he doats upon favourite points and 

 foibles in the study of his science ! I begin to wonder what 

 certain other friends of anti-vivisectionist tendencies would 

 say to Izaak's description of the treatment to which I might, 

 in the exercise of piscatorial art, subject the frog I see sitting 



