A BROOK 55 



Sometimes one of the more venturesome anglers 

 would tuck up his trousers and walk into the shallow 

 water, so as to be able to cast his bait under the opposite 

 hank, where it was deep. Then an ancient and much 

 battered punt was discovered aground in a field at some 

 distance, and dragged to the pond. One end of the 

 punt had quite rotted away, but by standing at the other, 

 so as to depress it there and lift the open end above the 

 surface, two, or even three, could make a shift to fish 

 from it. 



The silent and motionless eagerness with which these 

 anglers dwelt upon their floats, grave as herons, could 

 not have been exceeded There they were day after 

 day, always patient and always hopeful. Occasionally 

 a small catch a mere " bait " was handed round for 

 inspection; and once a cunning fisherman, acquainted 

 with all the secrets of his craft, succeeded in drawing 

 forth three perch, perhaps a quarter of a pound each, 

 and one slender eel. These made quite a show, and 

 were greatly admired ; but I never saw the same man 

 there again. He was satisfied. 



As I sat on the white rail under the aspen, and inhaled 

 the scent of the beans flowering hard by, there was a 

 question which suggested itself to me, and the answer 

 to which I never could supply. The crowd about the 

 pond all stood with their backs to the beautiful flowing 

 brook. They had before them the muddy banks of 

 the stagnant pool, on whose surface patches of scum 

 floated. 



Behind them was the delicious stream, clear and 

 limpid, bordered with sedge and willow and flags, and 

 overhung with branches. The strip of sward between 

 the two waters was certainly not more than twenty 

 yards ; there was no division hedge, or railing, and 



