SOME BRITISH FRESH-WATER FISHES 191 



one would imagine a jolly old friar of orders 

 grey would have smiled. 



He was a member of an Anglican brotherhood, 

 and he roared with laughter when I told him that 

 he reminded me of W. Dendy Sadler's well-known 

 picture, " To-morrow will be Friday." 



I fished that "stew" all day without success. 

 Determined not to be beaten, I essayed the fol- 

 lowing day with a novel lure which I thought 

 would be more effective. Should there be a pike 

 in the " stew,'* I thought it must surely be satiated 

 with roach, while, probably, it had never seen a 

 goldfish and would therefore rush at it. I brought 

 this bait down by rail from London, and at every 

 stopping-place had to renew the water, which at 

 intervals had slopped over from the live-bait can ; 

 otherwise the fish would have succumbed, but even 

 as it was, they every now and again seemed to 

 be at the last gasp for breath ! Still more 

 troublesome travelling companions were some 

 gentles that I once took with me in a tin, from 

 out of which they escaped, and sprawled all over 

 the compartment, luckily unobserved by my 

 slumberous fellow-passengers. 



Tenderly, as if I loved him (vide Izaac Walton), 

 I secured a goldfish on the snap-tackle, and noise- 

 lessly cast in the line. Down went the fat, blue 



