178 ROUND THE GREAT WHITE HORSE 



beautiful oval bivalve shells, their mother-of-pearl 

 lining pierced by the crows' beaks ; and near any 

 favourite post or old stump, which the crows use as 

 a dining-table, there is a pile of the dark-blue and opal 

 fragments. It is not creditable to the rustic feeling 

 for sport that the March shrinkage of the waters, 

 which suggests to the crows their raids upon the 

 mussels, usually prompts the whole village to a short- 

 lived enthusiasm for " fishing." It never seems to 

 occur to rustic anglers that autumn and winter are the 

 proper seasons in which to take coarse fish. The sight 

 of the young fry near the banks, and the big breeding 

 pike in the shallows, sends every idle pair of hands with 

 rods or poles to the stream. If the weather is un- 

 usually dry, the fish may even be hauled out with a 

 hay-rake ; and in any case, snares, or some " engine " 

 not considered fair to the fish by anglers, is preferred. 

 " Did you catch he with a snare ? " was the first inquiry 

 we heard addressed to an urchin who was discovered 

 cuddling a 6-lb.. pike in his arms like a baby. " No," 

 replied the boy. " You groppled he ? " suggested 

 another. " Got 'un with a hook ? " surmised a third. 

 " Not exactly, " was the answer ; " I catched 'an 

 wi' a bung. 1 ' The big fish had fallen victim to a 

 night-line, fastened to the cork of a mineral-oil cask. 



