ON SURREY HILLS. 



themselves out of the water when the pike have left 

 the deep water below and rushed for them on the 

 shallows. We have known this to take place once or 

 twice in the season when the shallows had been 

 deserted by them, as they are at certain times. After 

 the run of water has cleared the bridge, it forms a 

 deep pool, wider here than the water above it This 

 bit is the haunt of pike, good ones when you can catch 

 them. I have often come home empty-handed so far 

 asjis/i went, but there is always some slight consola- 

 tion in knowing they are there. And what could be 

 better, for lingering near, than this bit of water? 

 Old oak pollards are dotted here and there ; a lux- 

 uriant growth of ferns and plumy thistles crowns the 

 top of the banks, hanging over in places. Where the 

 rifts have been washed out underneath by the floods, 

 stunted willows, the stone-crop osiers of the rustics, 

 have rooted thickly ; huge docks are mingled with 

 them ; then come the sedges to the water's edge. A 

 fringe of water-lilies, about six feet in width, follow ; 

 beyond there is deep water, free from any obstacles, 

 and just below the pool a shelving sandy shore. 



We are ready. Out shoots the roach to the far 

 side, merrily it spins as it comes across the slant to 



