170 AN OPEN CREEL 



This done, however, the tremendous strain on the line 

 moved the punt without the need of a paddle, and 

 presently I could see the fish, which must have been 

 nearly twenty pounds, lying in the weeds close to me, 

 apparently done and ready for the net. This was a 

 capacious instrument, but it was not big enough for 

 the pike and weeds as well. I could only get it half 

 under him, and had to force a way through the thickest 

 part of the weeds before I dared to lift it. The task 

 was nearly done when he suddenly came to life again, 

 gave a vigorous plunge, and smashed the gimp just 

 above the hooks. A wild scoop of the net helped him 

 to get out of his entanglements, and he swam slowly 

 away, leaving me to the meditations on blank days 

 that he had interrupted. 



I would give much to be able to look back on that 

 day with the lofty contempt which it doubtless deserves ; 

 but even now, after many years, I can only recall it 

 with indignation. Fate plays the angler many a prank, 

 sending his salmon away with his hard-earned half- 

 crown in its mouth, knocking his trout and grayling 

 (particularly his grayling) off the hook just as the net 

 is about to do its office, and depriving him generally 

 of the rewards due to honest endeavour. Fate also 

 smiles the while, and doubtless there is a malignant 

 humour about it all, could one only look at it from 

 every side. The more need, therefore, is there for a 

 detachment of mind which can afford to despise un- 

 toward incident, and which, while admitting and 

 enjoying to the full the beauties of a free-rising day, 

 can accept the disappointments of fate's darkest hours 

 without a complaint, and perhaps with the smile of 



