THE ANGLER AND THE BRIDGE 275 



Or, if he will be so bold, can he affirm that there is not 

 so much as a flood-gate or a plank across a carrier ? 

 Will he deny that even yet his heart swells with pride 

 when he thinks of the two-pound trout that used to 

 feed a foot below that plank, and now (for a reason he 

 knows very well) feeds there no more ? Will he perjure 

 himself by denying further that on his next visit he 

 proposes to fetch a very considerable and rather damp 

 compass out into the meadow so that he may crouch 

 behind the rushes twenty yards below the plank, there 

 to ascertain if that trout has a successor, and if that 

 successor rises ? 



As a matter of fact, the angler cannot deny these 

 things, or their parallels, for the bridge plays too inti- 

 mate and happy a part in all his imaginings. It is 

 almost as necessary to him as the river. On it he fits 

 together his tackle at morn, and estimates the chances 

 of the day's sport ; on it again he counts his spoils at 

 eve, or considers theories to account for lack of spoils 

 theories which shall have some weight in argument 

 with vain and scoffing persons. And under it between 

 whiles, either from below or above, he plies his angle 

 and tries to catch a trout usually, honesty must admit, 

 without success. Truly the bridge plays a great and 

 important r61e in the angler's scheme of things, and it 

 deserves greater honour than is usually paid to it. A 

 new John Dennys, should one arise out of the poetic 

 silence which is gradually enwrapping the sport, might 

 sing the bridge in many cantos without overstepping 

 the bounds of seemliness. 



The bridge is a thing of infinite variety. Every 

 structure which spans a piece of water has a character 



