176 THE CARP. 



cousin Dick at the mention of my trout in days long since passed 

 away,* whilst as he gazed intently upon the fish, and heard an 

 account of the previous adventures, 



" He looked, and coughed, and blew his aose, 

 Then looked and coughed again." 



An early hour on the following day found him by the side of 

 this self same pool, the whereabouts of which he had contrived 

 to elicit from the two young anglers, and which if he had enter- 

 tained any doubt about, the footmarks around the brink, and dis- 

 turbed state of the loose gravel, coupled with the circumstance of 

 his finding a silk handkerchief belonging to one of the parties, 

 would have proved the identity of the spot, yet not a bite could 

 this most cunning angler obtain there throughout the day, the 

 whole of which he spent by the side of this self-same pool, buoyed 

 up with the constant hope that within a minute or two the sport 

 would begin. The carp could not have moved out of this pool in 

 the interim, as from the extreme lowness of the waters all com- 

 munication was cut off from the neighbouring pools. A willow 

 bush that grew partly in the water precluded any one from effec- 

 tually netting the place ; and even if this had been attempted, 

 the poachers would never have left the silk handkerchief behind 

 them, which was in far too conspicuous a place to have 

 escaped their notice. 



During the winter months carps bury themselves in the mud or 

 weeds, where it is probable they remain embedded in a state of 

 torpor and without food during the whole of that period. In 

 that truly interesting work, White's Natural History of Selborne, 

 it is stated, that " in the gardens of the Black Bear, in the town 

 of Reading, is a stream, or canal running under the stables, and 

 out into the fields on the other side of the road ; in this water are 

 many carps which lie rolling about in sight, being fed by travellers 

 who amuse themselves by tossing them bread; but as soon as the 

 weather grows at all severe, these fishes are no longer seen, be- 

 cause they retire under the stables, where they remain till the 

 return of spring," 



* For a particular account of which see ante page 6. 



