196 IN THE GREEN LEAF 



Just in front of us, as we take the last turn 

 in our path, we see a figure leaning on a gate, 

 the road from which leads direct to one of the 

 ponds mentioned. The man has a stick in his 

 hand, about six feet in length, held country 

 fashion, by the middle. When we get to him, 

 the recognition is mutual, and he grins all 

 over his face. Then he turns his stick up, 

 and we see it has a good fork at the end. 



" Ah, well ! you have been fishing, or you 

 are going to, which is it ? " 



"I'm a-goin' now." 



" Have you got baits ? " 



"Yes, in the hedge." Will produces a large, 

 wide-mouthed pickle bottle, with three nice 

 bright gudgeons in it, remarking that there 

 was quite as many as he'd want, perhaps 

 more. "Coming down?" he asks. I nod 

 silently. Down through the alder copse, over 

 the sedge hummocks, into the dead uncut 

 reeds I make my way carefully through 

 these to the deep water channel, carrying 

 the pickle bottle ; thereby aiding and abetting 

 Willum in his fishing. From his pocket he 

 brought out a fine water-cord line, with a 

 large perch hook, whipped on to about four 

 feet of fine gimp. The line was wound on 



