CHAPTER XI 



A SERMON ON VEXATIONS AND 

 CONSOLATIONS 



A HAPPY heading for this chapter, as I thought, oc- 

 curred to me " Spoiled days." But I retain some- 

 thing of a sense of the ridiculous, and feared that the 

 title might be capable of misconstruction, for the 

 amusing story rose to mind of the village publican 

 who had a spoiled day according to his own declaration. 

 He rode in a dismal mourning coach to his wife's 

 funeral, accompanied by a grown-up daughter, and 

 she insisted upon having the window down. The 

 parent showing signs of uneasiness, the daughter ven- 

 tured to hope that he had no objection. " Oh ! no," 

 the bereaved husband replied, " keep it down if you 

 like, my gal, but you're quite spoiling my day." 



My intention will, however, be clear, for every one of 

 us must be acquainted with angling brothers for whom 

 everything seems to go wrong. Nay, a pretty heavy 

 percentage of even the very first rank have their bad 

 days, and believe in them with a species of fatalism 

 that of course helps on the result they dread. Endless 

 are the angler's troubles if he will but devote himself 

 to developing them. The worst victim is the man who 

 does not take things patiently, who is ever turning the 

 tap of impetuosity on at the main, who begins the day 



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