OUR NEIGHBOURS 109 



said, " very good fishing ; it belongs to a Nor- 

 wegian gentleman." " And does he fish ? " we 

 inquired. " Oh no," she replied with dignity, 

 "he does not fish himself; he very rich man; 

 he pay people to fish for him." 



Doubtless she considered us very foolish to 

 labour with the rod when we might, like the 

 Norwegian gentleman, achieve a better result 

 by paying people to net the pools for us. Her 

 attitude of mind was not unlike that of an 

 American-speaking Norwegian I once met in 

 the south of Norway. We were fishing a river 

 near a small town and staying at the inn there. 

 My host had an arrangement with the local 

 fishmonger to sell to him such fish as we did not 

 want for the inadequate sum of 4d. per pound. 

 Sport was moderate, and the number of groats 

 due at the week's end insignificant. The Nor- 

 wegian exile was staying at the same inn, having 

 returned to his native land to pickle mackerel 

 for the American market. Imbued with the 

 ideas of his adopted country and determined 

 not to lose a chance, he made inquiries as to 

 our proceedings, and was evidently puzzled by 

 them. One evening he said to me, " I've been 

 reckoning up this salmon-catching business of 



