A Summer Idyl 121 



again with minnow and got another great eel, but 

 no pike. 



Next day, when trying with trout, I nerved myself 

 with the thought that this was my last but best chance. 

 The day was approaching on which it would be 

 necessary for me to return to London, and even had 

 that not been the case, I wanted the courage requisite 

 to try any more devices. I prayed the Gods to be 

 propitious to one struggling so hard to achieve a great 

 object by honourable means, and in my inmost heart 

 I threatened them that I would say farewell to 

 honesty if they failed me. All was of no use. As I 

 was exerting all my muscle to make a big cast with 

 my gigantic rod, the hook caught in a whin-bush be- 

 hind me and crack ! the top was broken. Sorrowfully 

 and despairingly, I took up the fragments, and with a 

 long and dismal face, carried them back to the keeper. 

 I had reached the end of my patience. My gloom 

 was momentarily dispersed when I entered the pad- 

 dock. The man of traps and guns, crimson with rage 

 and with a great board in his hand, was careering in 

 full chase after a fine game bantam I had often ad- 

 mired on previous occasions. ' It has nearly killed 

 his best carrier pigeon,' said his comely wife, in 

 explanation of an outburst which was not nearly so 

 surprising to her as to me. In a few minutes her 

 husband came up carrying the dead bird by the heels. 

 As soon as he saw me. his countenance cleared, and 

 his first question was, had I killed the pike ? At my 



