8 AN ANGLER'S LINES. 



amongst the rushes that lined the low banks 

 with a fringe of brown and green, rushes 

 suggestive of pike, and sunshine, such as a 

 January day is not often blessed with, com- 

 pleted an auspicious combination of sky and 

 water. But, in spite of all, I was fain to 

 confess that things were slow, wretchedly slow. 

 In an early stage of the proceedings a small 

 jack had ; seized the live dace attached to a 

 Jardine snap, and had discovered, probably for 

 the first time, that a lively appetite has its 

 drawbacks. His youth, however, served him in 

 good stead, and I returned him to the water, 

 there to ponder the extraordinary ways of man- 

 kind and the painful deceitfulness of little 

 fish. 



But this had happened a good while back, 

 and the greased line was still floating listlessly 

 in the wake of a float that showed never a 

 tendency to bob beneath the surface. Mean- 

 while, I made a pilgrimage to places 

 where, on former occasions, success had usually 

 attended my efforts. But nothing had come of 



