IN THE SMOKING ROOM 161 



ground bait, inquiring whether a few old menu- 

 cards would do. He was later informed he was 

 fishing too deep. " No," said he, " it's the fish 

 that are too deep ! " 



At the fishing hotel, especially when the even- 

 ings are soon dark, as in early spring or in autumn, 

 a move may be made from the smoking-room to 

 the drawing-room for some music, " sometimes 

 part-singing, part not," as a professional humorist 

 once declared. When, as sometimes happens, 

 one of the guests has a good voice and knows 

 how to use it, he finds a very appreciative 

 audience in the anglers together assembled, 

 especially if any of them have their families with 

 them too. Good melodious music is somehow 

 very grateful after one has spent a day in the open 

 air. It is not, of course, always easy to get the 

 musical evening properly going. George Gros- 

 smith, the elder, summed up the difficulties. 

 "Those who can sing," he said, "won't sing. 

 While those who can't sing will ! " But at the inn 

 the trouble is chiefly with those who can and 

 won't. The hotel piano is sometimes both good 

 and regularly tuned, and then it is a joy. Often, 

 alas ! it needs the dentist ! But the saddest 

 experience I ever had was in the Sudan. I was 

 told there was a piano at a club, and thither I 

 hastened as soon as 1 was off" duty, anxious to 

 get my hands on the keys. Something was amiss, 

 however. The piano was quite dumb. I learnt 

 that the wires had been taken out to make traces 

 for fishing ! 



