IN THE MIDLANDS. 93 



angler return without a brace or two of good pike. Towards 

 the close of last season, in a North London angling club, 

 a tray of pike was exhibited as an illustration of the 

 value of the Ouse : there were two fish a handsome pair, 

 alike as two peas of nine pounds and a half, four between 

 five and seven pounds, and three not much above or below 

 four pounds. That was the reward of one short winter-day's 

 live-baiting three miles or so below Bedford. 



Two autumns ago I myself had the pleasure of finding a 

 " hot corner " amongst the Ouse jack. If I had a Cowper 

 in my pocket, there was despair in my heart. Two days had 

 I been sojourning at a pleasant waterside inn at Barford 

 Bridge, a melancholy example of the strange reverses to 

 which the angler is subjected. The "tip direct" had been 

 sent me that the pike were feeding, and off I went straight- 

 way to Sandy by train, and to Barford per dogcart, with a 

 companion who meditated valiant deeds with his bait can. 

 Even while alighting from the two-wheeler as a matter of 

 fact my companion, encumbered with three rods and little 

 short of half a hundredweight of miscellaneous baggage, 

 tumbled out head foremost, and smashed the baiting needle 

 he had ostentatiously stuck in his hat we saw an urchin, 

 wielding a clothes prop and line to match, swish out a 

 pikelet close to the bridge : and rubbed our hands at the 

 prospect. 



But the entire day was a blank. Somehow the fish " went 

 off," and fed not. Perhaps the wind had chopped round to 

 the east ; perhaps the fish knew, as they are said to do, 

 that atmospheric changes were pending ; perhaps they had 

 retired into the magnificent thickets of tufted reeds which 

 rose like a wall out of the other side of the river ; perhaps 



