112 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



only got me there in time but stilled my anxieties 

 on the way by lifting the trap and sending down 

 cheering messages of our progress. Even when at 

 the station and he had been paid as was bargained, 

 with a trifle over for his fairy, he would carry my 

 can of bait to the platform. 



" I'm a fisherman myself, sir. Had many a 

 pretty take of dace with the fly before they put up 

 the new lock and weir. Good luck to you, sir, 

 and plenty of sport." 



It is very disappointing to me that I should have 

 arrived at such years as mine with my faculty of 

 music so undeveloped that I prefer to be alone 

 when my heart is singing that I may voice it with- 

 out offending. If I could only whistle tunefully it 

 would be some relief. The only time and place 

 that seems to suit my voice is when I am in a train 

 that travels fast and with much noise towards my 

 fishing. 



When I was in the train and it was noisily puff- 

 ing on its way the cabby's happy face and his kind 

 wishes came back, while at my feet the dace were 

 flopping that were to be with me on the bank of 

 a river where pike grow quickly to a great size, 

 and, in addition, I was keeping faith to be at a cer- 

 tain spot at a certain time, and I was hastening 

 there. 



"'Tis sweet to know there is an eye to mark 

 our coming and grow brighter when we come." 

 I knew that my friend would be glad to see me, 

 though I did not know that both he and his friend 

 would jump for joy when they saw my can of 

 baits. 



So I sang, as I have told you I can, tunefully to 



