20 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



a day, higher, I believe, than on any other in the 

 Kingdom. At Folkestone Harbour, the proprie- 

 tary railway company charges fourpence to any- 

 one wishing to fish from the splendid pier that has 

 lately been built at great cost. Such charges 

 look high, but they are really beneficial to the 

 angler, since they keep the crowd at a distance, 

 and the crowd is the chief drawback of pier-fishing. 

 Fifteen or twenty years ago I spent many happy 

 days under various piers, often alone with the 

 plosh of the water against the limpet-covered 

 piles. Not even sport was essential to the charm 

 of those hours, for there was so much to watch : 

 the dory stalking its prey with sidelong stealth, 

 the pollack dashing out on unsuspecting victims 

 from its weed zareba, the crabs scuttling in a 

 follow-me-leader race over the clusters of mussels, 

 sometimes even a trusting guillemot or puffin 

 diving within a stone's throw after sand-eels that 

 sought vain shelter behind the posts. On calm 

 days, when the light was good and the water clear, 

 one looked down into nature's aquarium, where 

 no restraining glass modified the natural behaviour 

 of the inmates. Those delights have left such 

 pleasant memories that it would need very little 

 inducement to return to my first love, though 

 this has been wanting in the Devon town where 

 I have spent the last few summers, for the pier, 

 however convenient to bathe from, is of little 



