252 



THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR 



odour ; the snipe hung in the blue sky like a lark, 

 and the sound of its "drumming" or "bleating" 

 floated about us like the voice of a ventriloquist ; 

 a hawk, probably a marsh-harrier, swept over us, 

 stilling the song of the reed-wrens and the twitter 

 of the bearded tits. Yachts glided by with all 

 canvas set ; wherries rushed past with the white 

 foam spurting up at their bows, and their great 

 sails flapped thunderously as they gybed or tacked 

 at each twist of the river. 



With all these sights and sounds about us, the 

 fish biting merrily, the sun warm and the breeze 

 cool, we enjoyed our bream-fishing amazingly, and 

 felt sorry when the sun sank in the crimson west, 

 and the river grew black in the gloaming. 



One word of caution to the bream-fisher : moor 

 your boat on the concave side of a bend, and not on 

 the convex. The wherries are often compelled to 

 "shave" the corners, or lose the wind, and tack ; 

 and it is a pity to give them the trouble and delay 

 of doing this, for as a rule they do all they can to 

 oblige the angler. 



