124 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



I remembered that he, having been on the wing 

 while I had been in the centre of the line of 

 shooters, might perhaps have had more occasion 

 to be tired than I. But still, the ditch is not so 

 very wide, I thought : I'll jump and chance it. 



I jumped, and was sorry ; sorry for the inky 

 blackness that splashed me, sorry for its odour and 

 sorry for myself ; but pleased in a funny sort of 

 way to be a source of merriment to my son as 

 I knew I must be when next we met. 



I will tell you of my rod and line although 

 probably you have favourites of your own, because 

 there is a chance that you may wish to know what 

 experience has taught me to think the best for 

 such sport as we were after. 



The rod is a Hardy, a very old one, of split cane, 

 ten feet in length, and the weight is nine ounces, 

 six and a half of which are in the butt. I am fre- 

 quently being told that there are wonderful im- 

 provements in the manufacture of split-cane rods 

 and, on the day of which I am writing, Phil had 

 one that he was very proud of, quite a work of 

 art to look at ; but I could not help feeling as I 

 tried it that it lacked something that mine pos- 

 sessed. Could it be the mellowness brought by 

 the twelve years' work that mine has seen ? No 

 doubt there are improvements somewhere, because 

 we are told so, and that they are turned out in 

 great numbers with extraordinary expedition I 

 can quite believe, but I am not so sure there can 

 be the same pride in workmanship when the work 

 slips so quickly through the hands. 



I have a line, too, I value much, mainly because 

 the rod approves it. You may have seen a horse 



