254 THE CURVED MEADOW. 



crosses to the farm, at seven o'clock, and had 

 done all I could in the way of careful fishing 

 from there to the open dam, above which the 

 copse commences. Two fair sized trout had 

 taken a detached olive, and were brought to 

 bay and to bank ; while a third needless to 

 say a better one hooked in a glassy shallow, 

 had got off by jumping among the stones, so 

 that I had the first brace well before that 

 twilight of the Gods the true evening rise, 

 which I always agreed to be content with. 



It was ten minutes to eight, and to lose no 

 chance whatever, it seemed best to sit down at 

 the foot of the copse path, and eat the supper 

 I had brought with me, a leg of cold fowl in 

 a paper bag full of mustard and cress. By 

 thus securing, or rather booking, the entrance 

 to the meadow I should make sure of it, in 

 case another angler appeared on the scene. 



But no one came; a fact for which I felt 

 selfishly grateful. To have to explain to a 

 friend that you do not mind where you go, after 

 you have made certain elaborate plans and day 

 dreams of their result, is both inconvenient and 

 untruthful ; and one can luxuriate in solitude 

 with the thought that he is doing better else- 

 where, and that you and he can enjoy talking 

 about it at another time and place. The animal 

 instinct of possession asserts its most pleasur- 

 able force under such conditions. 



From the way the path was overgrown, it 

 was clear that no one had been up to it for at 

 least a fortnight, and to make the descent two 



