54 NATURE NEAR LONDON 



marsh marigold, the coltsfoot, all yellow, had already led 

 the van, closely accompanied by the purple ground-ivy, 

 the red dead-nettle, and the daisy ; this last a late 

 comer in the neighbourhood. The blackthorn, the horse- 

 chestnut, and the hawthorn came, and the meadows 

 were golden with the buttercups. 



Once only had I noticed any indication of fish in the 

 brook; it was on a warm Saturday afternoon, when 

 there was a labourer a long way up the stream, stooping 

 in a peculiar manner near the edge of the water with a 

 stick in his hand. He was, I felt sure, trying to wire a 

 spawning jack, but did not succeed. Many weeks had 

 passed, and now there came (as the close time for coarse 

 fish expired) a concourse of anglers to the almost stag- 

 nant pond fed by the side hatch. 



Well-dressed lads with elegant and finished tackle 

 rode up on their bicycles, with their rods slung at their 

 backs. Hoisting the bicycles over the gate into the 

 meadow, they left them leaning against the elms, fitted 

 their rods and fished in the pond. Poorer boys, with 

 long wands cut from the hedge and ruder lines, trudged 

 up on foot, sat down on the sward and watched their 

 corks by the hour together. Grown men of the artisan 

 class, covered with the dust of many miles' tramping, 

 came with their luncheons in a handkerchief, and set 

 about their sport with a quiet earnestness which argued 

 long if desultory practice. 



In fine weather there were often a dozen youths and 

 four or five men standing, sitting, or kneeling on the 

 turf along the shore of the pond, all intent on their floats r 

 and very nearly silent. People driving along the high- 

 way stopped their traps, and carts, and vans a minute or 

 two to watch them : passengers on foot leaned over the 

 gate, or at down and waited expectantly. 



