56 THE PIKE 



a fortnight fishing, now for roach, now for perch, and 

 now for pike. 



The scenery, to be sure, like that of East Anglia, 

 was a little monotonous. Every day you looked 

 from the deck upon a wonderful breadth of sky, 

 the country being so flat; upon pastures as far 

 as the eye could reach ' dressed in living green ' 

 (vide Isaac Watts, D.D.) ; upon black and white 

 cattle tamely grazing, upon steeply pitched farm 

 roofs of ruddy tiles, upon belts of formal poplars ; 

 upon countless windmills, upon neat homes and 

 homely churches, and upon a frequent shimmer of 

 water on the horizon line. These meres are connected 

 by canals that resemble rivers, with their picturesque 

 margin of rushes and aquatic flowers, and no tow 

 paths. 



Fishing from our little dingey on many days I 

 caught a few pike that were very small, sadly under- 

 standing the reason on acquaintance with the manner 

 in which the meres are ruthlessly fished for commer- 

 cial objects. Instead of the best pike fishing in the 

 world, these waters give you the worst. The fish are 

 never left alone, and in whatever place you may be 

 cruising you will meet heavy sailing boats inhabited 

 by men who get their living by netting and wild- 

 fowling. It is, in fact, one of the recognised industries 



