302 



THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR. 



edge of the reeds, held there by main force. It 

 must weigh ten pounds at the least. Not an inch 

 further can it be dragged. John takes oft' his shoes 

 and stockings, and attempts to wade to it ; but as 

 he plunges up to his waist in soft mud, and has to 

 be helped out by his master, he is of no use in 

 landing the pike. At last, fearful of straining his 

 rod, the master takes hold of the line, and attempts 

 to lead the fa'sh through the reeds, fervently hoping 

 that his tackle is sound and the hold of the hooks 

 secure. Wallop ! the gimp parts at the loop, and the 

 pike sinks back into the pool. 



' ' Never mind, John. We will have him in the 

 winter, when the weeds are down. AVe have done 

 pretty well, and we may be satisfied. Turn them 

 out on the grass. Eight of them, I declare, from 

 two to seven pounds. They will be as much as you 

 can carry home, John." 



So they go homeward through the autumn gloam- 

 ing, slowly but well content. 



This is fair and quite sufficient sport. A friend 

 of mine, during one day's live-baiting in a Norfolk 

 river, caught fourteen pike, from seven to fourteen 

 pounds in weight, with his own rod. 



I should not care for such sport as that. It is 

 butchery. Well, perhaps, as you say, the grapes are 

 sour. 



A friend of mine has just told me that he once 

 had a big pike on in a similarly awkward position, 

 with a fringe of bushes between him and the pike. 



