FRESHENED BY FROST 411 



under ice, and if the fish released it, it bumped some- 

 where against the ceiling, possibly making a dim 

 glow of red if the ice was at its thinnest just there. 

 The pike we struck came shorewards with difficulty, 

 just giving us an idea of his length by a sweep of his 

 tail through the crust, and then escaping without 

 the frozen dinner he had planned for. When the 

 flow over the weir strengthened a little, clear water 

 came at the head of the pool, but a bait cast there 

 never received attention. The fish kept under the 

 ice, as though it had been warmer there than in the 

 open water. 



In the farmyard close by, the fowls had fed and 

 retired in a cluster to their perches. The sparrows 

 that would have come for the remains had been dis- 

 possessed by a cloud of starlings, not a whistle in 

 them to-day, as they sat on the edge of an apparently 

 empty trough. It had contained food, and, after the 

 manner of the fields that constantly present a new 

 supply of worms, it might sprout a fresh supply of 

 barley-meal at any moment. At any rate, the chance 

 was better there than in the endless white of the 

 water-meadows. A robin, out of pure friendliness 

 for man, came and sat, as though for a Christmas- 

 card portrait, on a twig of last year's water-plantain 

 sticking out of the ice near our bank. A wagtail that 

 feasted all the summer at the waterfall perched on a 

 little iceberg that went floating round the pool as the 

 Mayflies used to float. He flirted his wings in summer 

 manner, and made a peck at the barren ice, as though 

 it had swarmed with fat grubs good to eat. Lastly, 

 a mournful little long-billed bird, a jack-snipe, came 

 flying round the open water, passed just below the 



