212 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



for he throws in : and in a very short space of time he 

 fetches out a plump, nice fish. That comes down on 

 the grass, whack ! Perch after perch he keeps land- 

 ing, until my fingers begin to itch for fishing-tackle. 

 Presently he shouts out, in a state of great excite- 

 ment, ' I got 'un ! ' and then, ' I shell lose 'un I I knows 

 I shell. No, I shan't I got 'un ! ' and he flops a 

 splendid crimson-finned beauty on to the grass r 

 weighing a good pound and a half. In being taken 

 off the hook Master Perch lets the boy know what 

 that back fin of his can do, for which he gets a crack 

 on the head with the butt-end of the bean-stick. 

 Then the boy goes on fishing, and two more come to 

 grass, his tackle is strong, and it matters not to him 

 how they come out. He has a fine lot soon, but 

 does not think of leaving off, for he has warmed to 

 his work. 



1 Ah've got anuther big 'un ; he's bigger than 

 t'other, I know he is he do pull so. Out ye cums ! * 

 Just as the perch is lifted clear of the water, he falls 

 off the hook and is in again splash ! The boy looks 

 first at the end of the line and then at the spot where 

 the perch dropped in ; then he yells out, ' Ah shan't 

 fish no more to-day. Ah've had enough on't. Ah'm 

 sick on't ! That there fish was a sight bigger than any 

 of they, an' ah've lost he.' 



