THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 65 



pet wild-ducks disporting themselves in grateful enjoy- 

 ment ? and I was just about to plant for them such a 

 nice sedge corner, where the flies would accumulate for 

 the tiny ducklings to peck at. 



But to adjourn to the other side of the farm, there is 

 an alluvial bank below our garden terrace, the gathered 

 I deposit of rich soil frayed away by floods from upward 



* shores. On this, in summer time, a luxuriant crop of 



various plants sways gently in the backwater of the 

 hurrying stream. Here, at eventide, as you lean over 

 your boat, you may watch the promenade of many a 

 lustrous fish, which in our Wye it is far easier to behold 

 than to ensnare. Of late the water has been clouded ; 

 but one evening last week there was an assembly of 

 village lads upon the shore, and next morning there was 

 a rumour of unwonted success. We determine to try 

 our luck as well. At last a nibble, clearly, by the float. 

 We pull ; but what a weight ! Hurrah ! he's a good 

 one, whatever he may be. Draw gently, for the line 

 may break. Now he is pulling, and no mistake ; and 

 now — woe's me, he's gone ! What a horrid sell ! I feel 

 disgusted and desponding, and am about to wind-up, 

 when again a full weight as ever. He's on again ; coming 

 up, too, gradually. Hurrah ! after all — but again no 

 sign — he's gone — it's disgusting. I'll be off. We wind 

 away at the reel, when again a most tremendous pull, 

 and a renewal of our apprehensions for the line. Again 

 a slack, and again as quickly a tightened strain — he's 

 surely some pounds weight. Come away, then, at all 

 risks ; I can't be bothered any longer ; and our friend 

 floats up — what think ye ? Why, nothing more nor less 

 than a small dirty flat-fish, who had produced all this 

 excitement by alternately setting himself upright against 



