190 THE TROUT ARE RISING 



Have I my . . Odourless paraffin and line 



greaser ? 

 Have I my . Fishing bag ? 



Have I my 

 Have I my 

 Have I my 

 Have I my 

 Have I my 

 Have I my 



Landing net ? 

 Waders ? 

 Wading socks ? 

 Brogues ? 

 Sandwiches ? 

 Refreshment ? 



Once, when 1 was fishing the Onny in Shrop- 

 shire, I had, not a blank day, but a day which 

 looked like having a blank in it. I had forgotten 

 my luncheon ; and I did not realize it until I was 

 miles away from the hotel. The sandwiches I 

 knew had been carefully put ready for me, but, in 

 the rush of starting and with the car waiting to 

 take me to the waterside, I had omitted to pick 

 them up. After a hard morning's fishing in air 

 which acts like a tonic, the ministry of the interior 

 reminds one if luncheon has been missed. It was 

 about 2 o'clock. I might, perhaps, have lit a fire 

 and done a trout to a turn for some nice trout 

 had been caught but trout by itself lacks some- 

 thing. I set off to explore the resources of the 

 country. 



Coming at last to a cottage by the roadside 

 I approached it. By the garden gate was a little 

 maid of about fourteen, hard at work, her face 

 "like morning roses newly washed with dew." 

 Would she, I entreated, please go and ask mother 

 if she could kindly supply a passing fisherman 

 with a little bread and butter and a cup of tea, as 

 he had forgotten to bring his luncheon ? Off 



