THE MICROBE 



Exmoor with a wholly new outlook on many things. 

 Above all, the streams and rivers that in traversing 

 England the train strode in its course, became objects 

 of life, interest, and speculation. Here were pools 

 and lakes almost at the door. I knew nothing of 

 bottom-fishing, but that very fact enhanced the 

 mystery and the adventure. None of that mild float- 

 fishing with nurse or governess, so often engaged in 

 by juveniles, had ever come my way. Now, however, 

 I lost not an hour. By the advice of a sympathetic 

 butler who rummaged out some tackle, and with a tin 

 of worms, I commenced operations in a round pool, 

 some hundred yards in diameter and known in local 

 geography as the marlpit. This resulted in my first 

 introduction to the roach, whose novelty of appearance 

 after the Exmoor trout gave some zest to its capture. 

 But a day or two later I found myself in Shrewsbury, 

 with a view, I think, to buying tackle, in company 

 with my very much looked-up-to friend, and we 

 turned into what was then a celebrated tackle-shop. 

 Its proprietor, as a matter of fact, was something of a 

 notability, and as an expert taxidermist rather closely 

 associated with the great house in the park, which 

 contained a fine private museum of stuffed birds and 

 beasts. The old gentleman suggested we should 

 lunch with him, which we did very handsomely in a 

 room above the shop, on a portion of a beautiful 

 salmon he had killed in the Wye the day before, after 

 a hard fight, which he described at length. So I 

 was getting on ! My companion rallying me at table 

 anent my devotion to the roach in the marlpit, 

 Mr. S remarked, * Why don't you catch some of 



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