DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 113 



the music of a puffing engine and many trundling 

 wheels until I reached my station, where a convey- 

 ance awaited me. 



The cold of the early morning had by now dis- 

 appeared with the frosty mist and as the sun rose 

 higher it lit up and gave a smiling face to the 

 trees and hedgerows, and the birds, having no love 

 songs, twittered their thanks for its warmth and 

 brightness. The hedges, full and resplendent with 

 autumn's many shades of brown, and overhung 

 with berry-laden bushes that had misty pendants 

 in pearly contrast to their brilliant reds, were a 

 wondrous three miles of decorations, with only such 

 breaks as gates, through some of which I caught 

 glimpses of ponds and ditches where the red-tipped 

 withies, swaying with a rising breeze, gave thoughts 

 of the river, where, no doubt, the fishers had come 

 quite early and were having sport, as no jack could 

 be indifferent to a lure on such a breezy morning 

 following on a frost at night. 



To my astonishment I found my friend standing 

 idly upon the bridge with someone by his side, 

 both of them with their hands resting in their 

 knicker pockets. "At his old games," I thought, 

 "giving the editor a start while he talks to 

 passers-by." 



I was introduced to the stranger and thus learnt 

 he was a Mr B , and he by the same means 

 gathered I was Mr G , but he thought little of 

 my name for he called me "Green" as he hastily 

 lifted the lid of my bait-can and got some water in 

 his eye from a fluttering tail. 



"Splendid lot, Green, splendid. Been waiting 

 here for hours and hours for you. Don't remember 



