MINNOW AND WORM 151 



Anyhow there I was on the lawn with a stiff rod 

 in my hand, a float before my eyes, and a worm 

 somewhere under the water. I remember that the 

 fioat had been dropped in quite elose to the camp- 

 sheathing which fortified the hatch between the two 

 ponds. I knew a lot about perch in those days, 

 though little about trout (and nothing about trout 

 in ponds), and I picked for my first venture a spot 

 which perch would naturally choose in the hope 

 that trout would not be far different in habit. The 

 float disappeared with very little delay — I still 

 retain the freshness of the incredulity with which I 

 saw it sink — and after very little more delay I pos- 

 sessed a large trout. I think he was three-quarters 

 of a pound. I certainly wasted no time in playing 

 him. 



The rest of that day is less vividly before mc, but I 

 remember that it did not go on as it began, and that 

 I did not make a huge basket of fish. I got three 

 only, one I think about a pound, the other a fat 

 creature of six ounces which was the most beautiful 

 object I had ever seen, as golden as a new sovereign. 

 That fish came from the top pond of all, a mere 

 puddle up in the wood, which must have been above 

 the fishery proper. Very handsome treatment in 

 the matter of luncheon, and a seven-mile walk home 

 in the evening are my other memories of the 

 day. 



