A BROOK. G3 



foot leaned over the gate, or sat down and waited 

 expectantly. 



Sometimes one of the more venturesome anglers 

 would tuck up his trousers and walk into the shallow 

 water, so as to be able to cast his bait under the 

 opposite bank, where it was deep. Then an ancient 

 and much battered punt was discovered aground in a 

 field at some distance, and dragged to the pond. One 

 end of the punt had quite rotted away, but by standing 

 at the other, so as to depress it there and lift the open 

 end above the surface, two, or even three, could make 

 a shift to fish from it. 



The silent and motionless eagerness with which these 

 anglers dwelt upon their floats, grave as herons, could 

 not have been exceeded. There they were day after 

 day, always patient and always hopeful. Occasionally 

 a small catch a mere " bait " was handed round for 

 inspection ; and once a cunning fisherman, acquainted 

 with all the secrets of his craft, succeeded in drawing 

 forth three perch, perhaps a quarter of a pound each, 

 and one slender eel. These made quite a show, and 

 were greatly admired ; but I never saw the same man 

 there again. He was satisfied. 



As I sat on the white rail under the aspen, and 

 inhaled the scent of the beans flowering hard by, 

 there was a question which suggested itself to me, and 

 the answer to which I never could supply. The crowd 

 about the pond all stood with their backs to the 

 beautiful flowing brook. They had before them the 

 muddy banks of the stagnant pool, on whose surface 

 patches of scum floated. 



Behind them was the delicious stream, clear and 



