96 By Stream and Sea. 



The Lea milkmaid of to-day does the same : the conclusions 

 differ. 



" I'll 'ev yer milk ken, Carrots," I heard a Lea angler 

 remark, in this year of grace, to a golden-haired maiden who 

 carried the milk-pail. 



" There's no abidin' these imperent reskels ; I wish they 

 was drownded," replied the nymph without a hint of syllahub 

 of new verjuice should the " imperent reskels " happen to 

 pass that way on a future occasion. 



But these criticisms apply only to the rough-and-ready 

 division of the class the men who overrun the bits of open 

 water nearest London. They are not the class of person 

 who will trouble the innkeepers ; the rush basket slung over 

 the shoulder contains, with the ground-bait maggots and 

 worms, the frugal fare that will suffice until the cupboard in 

 Bethnal Green or Shoreditch is once more at hand. They 

 do not believe in begging or buying permission to fish. 

 Not only are they acquainted with every inch of free water : 

 they have intimate knowledge of every piece of half-watched 

 or wholly neglected subscription fishery, and are not back- 

 ward in turning it to account. 



Fortunately for the bulk of the Lea fishermen, who are 

 as keen sportsmen as any, the river is being most sensibly 

 conserved by a board which protects it from the Ishmaelites 

 who preyed upon it, so that after all this lapse of time and 

 constant fishing the Lea certainly retains its old Waltonian 

 character for excellence. In the first volume of that most 

 useful guide for anglers, "The Rail and the Rod," Mr. 

 Greville Fennel, by his thorough treatment of the Lea 

 country, simply leaves nothing to be said of the angling 

 capacities of this river. Of the fish, fishermen, their habits 

 and peculiarities, he speaks with unquestionable authority, 

 beginning at Old Ford and pausing at every station until 



