MEMORIES 8i 



favourite perch on the dead roots of a fallen alder, 

 used to catch the minnows, and even sticklebacks 

 in spite of their spines. 



Here the brook widens to a little shallow, where 

 the cattle come to drink. In one of the hollows 

 which their feet have trod an unwonted splashing is 

 going on. A pike, scarce three inches long, has 

 caught a minnow. Small as he is, there is the same 

 cruel look in his ugly little head, and the same 

 ferocity in his attack as if he were a twenty-pounder. 

 He has caught the minnow by the middle, and jerks 

 him from side to side as a robin jerks an earthworm 

 on the lawn. A larger pike would have no need to 

 shake his prey j he would seize it in the same fashion 

 and, retiring to his hole, bolt it head foremost, as every 

 angler knows. 



Below the shallow is a flight of little terraces formed 

 of sandstone flags that marks the position of a 

 worn-out water-gate; and then the river and the 

 weir. 



The farmers say that, what with the river choking 

 up and summer floods, they have no need of water 

 on the land. Be this as it may, the gates are gone, 

 and only the posts and terraces are left. The water, 

 by its constant working between the stones, has 



F 



