AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 27 



into a deepish pool, into which I am taking peeps, 

 which show me how full the river is of life now the 

 sea has sent its season's tribute, and, quite unmind- 

 ful of our photographer, I am humming as coaxingly 

 as I can : 



" Oh, harmless tenant of the flood, 

 I do not wish to spill thy blood; 



For Nature unto thee 

 Perchance has given a tender wife 

 And children dear to charm thy life, 



As she has done to me." 



The Oily is a perfect stream for a Sunday morn- 

 ing's ramble. It winds continuously, making deep, 

 eddying pools at every turn. It hides between high 

 banks, down which I scramble for yet another peep 

 to where fish are lying secure from fright of fleeting 

 shadows cast by passing birds. The sun is high, 

 and hunger calls a halt, and we choose the bank of 

 this shaded pool for a resting-place, so that while 

 we sit and eat we can watch the running fish as 

 they make the easy leap that lifts them yet another 

 stage towards their bourne. By the time we had 

 come to the tobacco course of our repast we were 

 in a most benevolent frame of mind, and having no 

 tackle, could have truly sung : 



" Enjoy thy stream, oh, harmless fish ! 

 And when an angler for his dish, 



Through gluttony's vile sin, 

 Attempts, a wretch, to pull thee out, 

 God give thee strength, oh, gentle trout, 



To pull the rascal in." 



