Crichmere Memories 117 



a rough fishing picnic. Mr. Andrews pro- 

 duced a small loaf, broke it in two, gave one 

 half to me and kept the other ; likewise did 

 he equitably divide the butter, the cheese, 

 and a slice or two of pressed beef. We fell- 

 to, sitting at the bare, but scrupulously clean, 

 board. As we sat at table the sunshine 

 came in at the window, steeping the wooden 

 hut in beauty and delight ; whilst through 

 the wide-open door stole a light breeze fresh 

 from the pure heights of the Surrey hiils. 

 After lunch there arose the inevitable aroma 

 of tobacco, and then it was, as later when 

 wandering amongst the ponds, that Mr. 

 Andrews did hold forth concerning the 

 common trout — a creature on the whole not 

 undesirable, but at times, it must be ad- 

 mitted, so perverse that many anglers have 

 been known to use against it very question- 

 able English. 



During a considerable part of my life I have 

 been prying into the habits and haunts of the 

 fish, and noting its aggravating ways when 

 angled for j but I soon found that my know- 



