WATERS OF YOUTH 3 



fishing. I never quite understood why it was dis- 

 couraged, but it was ; only about once a term were we 

 allowed to go out with the sanction of authority 

 and angle in the little stream that ran through the 

 village. 



We always made a festival of this solemn occasion, 

 and we nearly always caught something worth having, 

 for we were easily satisfied. Minnows were not despised, 

 gudgeon were greeted with rapture, and the occasional 

 triumph of a roach, with gorgeous red eyes, was a thing 

 beyond words. Once one of us caught a golden 

 minnow, a very beautiful little fish such as I have never 

 seen since, though I have heard of a specimen now and 

 again. Most of our captures were kept alive and put 

 into " the pond," a funny little piece of water in the 

 stable yard, flanked on two sides by the kitchen-garden 

 wall, and on the third by two small willow-trees. Round 

 in shape, about twenty feet in diameter, and filled with 

 debris in the shape of old tins, sunken fragments of 

 toy boats, bottles, and other remnants, it was by no 

 means the place into which fish ought to have been put, 

 for their speedy demise was practically certain. The 

 odd thing was, however, that our fish thrived in the 

 uncongenial puddle. They would even take a worm at 

 times, and, in default of better occupation, we used to 

 angle for them with withy twigs, cotton lines, and bent 

 pins. The gudgeon adapted themselves to the pond 

 best, but bull-heads also lived there pretty well, and 

 also stone-loach, when we could get them home alive, 

 which was rather difficult. One afternoon a great 

 surprise came to us in the shape of a little carp, which 

 must have been in the pond all the time, for none of us 



