22 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



speculation was printed with regard to that newt, 

 but there is no great difficulty in concluding that it 

 was washed out to sea from either Fairlight Glen, 

 or from the east side of Dungeness, for newts 

 abound in the famous Warren at Folkestone, 

 living in little ponds within a hundred yards of 

 the shore. 



I hope that the modest geographical range of 

 the few reminiscences recalled in the following 

 pages may not disappoint those who seem to labour 

 under the false impression, for which I am in no 

 way responsible, that I have fished every sea from 

 Shoreham to Shanghai. A triangle on the Mer- 

 cator map, having Christiania, Funchal and Sydney 

 at its corners, would include all the bays that 

 I have fished and more that I have not. Some of 

 the fishing scenes within those limits I have en- 

 deavoured, with I know not what success, to depict 

 less for the practical instruction of those who may 

 visit the waters reviewed than perchance to amuse 

 a few who lack the opportunity or inclination to 

 go abroad. There is, for one constitutionally 

 addicted to travel, but tied by work to England, 

 a grain of consolation in the retrospect, which 

 others may like to share. Those foreign memories 

 are very sweet and very often mitigate the bitter- 

 ness of thwarted plans for further foray of the kind : 

 the "fond credulity of silly fish" in the Baltic, the 

 romance of nights spent on the Mediterranean, 



