DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 99 



What happened to the anglers after they left Basing- 

 stoke up to their arrival at the fami-house at which 

 they stayed the night I cannot say; but I was told by 

 the artist of the care that had been displayed in provid- 

 ing safe lodgings for the bait. 



By dri\ing from Richmond to Surbiton I was 

 able to catch the early morning train. Fairies, good 

 fairies — there were no others in my mother's tales 

 — are the food for children's brains, and they should 

 be fed on them until the old Adam in their blood, 

 that would fill their dreams and imaiginings with 

 frightening bogies, has no chance. So fully was I fed 

 on them that to me there has ever been a taste of 

 fairies in all that's good. Some men I know have one 

 always with them that peeps out on the world from the 

 comers of their eyes and prompts their tenement 

 v/hat to say. The cabby that drove me from Rich- 

 mond to Surbiton had one I am sure, for, without the 

 shghtest pother, he not only got me there in time but 

 stilled my anxieties on the way by hfting the trap and 

 sending do\Mi cheering messages of our progress. 

 Even when at the station, and he had been paid as 

 was bargained, with a trifle over for his fairy, he would 

 carry my can of bait to the platform. 



'I'm a fishennan myself, sir. Had many a pretty 

 take of dace with the fly before they put up the new 

 lock and weir. Good luck to you, sir, and plenty 

 of sport.' 



It is very disappointing to me that I should have 

 arrived at such years as mine with my faculty of 

 music so undeveloped that I prefer to be alone when 

 my heart is singing, that I may voice it without 

 offending. If I could only whistle tunefully it would 

 be some relief. The only time and place that seems 

 to suit my voice is when I am in a train that travels 

 fast and with much noise towards my fishing. 



When I was in the train, and it was noisily puffing 

 on its way, the cabby's happy face and his kind wishes 



