" BOB " AND HIS APPRENTICES 33 



He was always looking forward to each new 

 spring time of his sport with an infectious kind of 

 boyish enthusiasm ; an enthusiasm which appealed 

 to us, and made us ever his willing and devoted 

 disciples. 



Behind his chair hung an old oak corner-cupboard, 

 originally intended to be the receptacle of the best 

 china, but long ago commandeered for a more useful 

 purpose. It had actually become the sacred 

 treasure-house of birds' wings, gut, and hooks, and 

 all those interesting things that go to make up an 

 angler's store. 



Below the cupboard stood a little round table. 

 Here he would sit sorting out from his wings, necks 

 and breasts of birds, the suitable soft feathers for 

 spider flies, and tying them on to his hooks. There 

 were always several pairs of keen young eyes 

 watching every movement, and the strands of newly 

 damped gut or hair, and waxed threads and hooks, 

 were generally waiting for him in one pair of hands 

 or another. At the same time he kept up a running 

 commentary on all that he was doing, and as a 

 particular fly pleased him he would hold it up, and 

 break out into snatches of joyous song. " Ah mun 

 have a bit o' hare's lug on this, and a twist o' yellow 

 silk on that. Ahve aither lost or used up my corn- 

 crake wing. Some o' ye ell hev to try to git me 



