36 AN ANGLER'S LINES. 



After no little persuasion, at length I induced 

 my friend to re -occupy the position, while I 

 stood by and awaited results. Then, not once, 

 but twice, did the history of my own experience 

 cruelly repeat itself in his case, and the angler, 

 hoping for, and practically in touch with, his 

 first pike, may be pardoned that look of keen 

 disappointment when finally, either suspicious 

 or satiated, the fish ignored all further 

 overtures . 



Man, however, must fefed, whether fish elect 

 to do so or not, and a tramp back for lunch 

 in the comfortable little hut where the river 

 surges through the open sluice gates, was 

 decided upon. The elusive pike had laid a 

 spell upon my companion, and the afternoon 

 found him again at the little curve in the river, 

 watching a float, from which depended a pater- 

 noster, in ^mid-stream. I left him reclining 

 in the welcome shade of a tree, and wended 

 my way to a certain pool some three or four 

 hundred yards distant. Half an hour elapsed, 

 during which I was more occupied in applying 



