XXVI ON A STORM-SWEPT PIKE POOL ^ 



AN esteemed friend and brother angler once told me, 

 with every sign of sorrow in his countenance, that 

 there was another angler whom he loved well, but with 

 whom he could not go fishing any more. And the 

 reason of it was the weather which unrelentingly 

 pursued that other angler about the kingdom. Ever- 

 lasting snow marked the unfortunate man's footsteps, a 

 mist of perpetual rain obscured his form, unceasing 

 north-east gales beat his face, and frequent thunder 

 rolled over his head. Moreover, my friend had dis- 

 covered, these ills descended upon the unjust and the 

 just impartially, so that whoso accompanied the victim 

 of misfortune became a victim himself of the like. In 

 time, it was to be feared, Providence might forget to 

 which of the two the evil weather really belonged, and 

 might atone for forgetfulness by zealously bestowing it 

 upon them both, so that 'there could be no mistake. 

 Therefore my friend was determined to withdraw from 

 that company while there still remained to himself some 

 small possibility of securing the ordinary man's portion 

 of decent fishing days a sorry pittance, it is true, but 

 better a good deal than the portion he sought to avoid. 

 To me, with memory and conscience both awake, 



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