60 WHAT I HAVE SEEN WHILE FISHING 



a glorious day, the heat of which was moderated 

 by soft in-shore breezes. We had reasons for 

 welcoming the cooling breeze : our necks were 

 smarting from the effects of yesterday's scorching 

 sun, and our noses were peeling, sore and red. 

 During leisure moments the itchings of these pro- 

 trusions, beyond the shade of headgear, received 

 attentions from briny fingers, after which they 

 glowed and itched the more. 



With tumbled temper, tickling nose, bleeding 

 finger, and a tangled line, I fortunately bethought 

 me of Shakespeare's words, " Angels and ministers 

 of grace defend us ! " and of my morning pipe, and 

 I set myself more firmly on my seat, determined to 

 smooth my temper first, after which no doubt the 

 other ills would grow less and less. The shepherd's 

 first smoke on mountain top could be no sweeter 

 than mine soon grew to be. 



Kirk is not the least observant of my block of 

 sons, but he is quite the most silent. I had uttered 

 no word that could have betrayed my inward per- 

 turbation beyond the above quotation, but he knew, 

 and I was allowed to smoke in silence, excepting 

 only when he had a fish on, which, judging by its 

 weighty rush, might be the monster of his dreams, 

 and then only, " I've got him this time, dad." The 

 broken finger-nail was lost to thought in wreaths of 

 smoke that soothed the nose's irritation, and the 

 line-clogged wheel seemed easily put right, and by 

 the time all too quickly the squirt-like spluttering 



