A SEPTEMBER DAY. 



YOUR true pike-fisher the man who makes pike- 

 fishing his hobby cares but little for fishing 

 during spring and summer. Trout-fishing ensnares 

 him not. Eoach and gudgeon have no charms for 

 him, unless he catches a quantity to preserve in 

 spirits of wine, to do duty as spinning baits on cold 

 winter days when baits are not to be had. But 

 when the hot harvest days are passed by, and as 

 September wanes, as the nights grow colder, and 

 even the midday air has a touch of keenness in 

 it, then does the fever seize him, and henceforth 

 during the autumn and winter there is no peace 

 for him save at the waterside, with his trusty pike 

 rod in his hand, and a prospect at least of having 

 two or three good-sized pike to carry home. 



And about the 15th of September he hath an 

 opening day, and he goeth, not to a grand preserve, 

 but to a small but pikey stream which floweth 

 through the meadows. It is just to see that his 

 rod and tackle are in order, and that he has not 

 lost the knack of casting a bait. This is the record 

 thereof. 



Is it any harm, I wonder, to look at one's rod on 



