Crichmere Memories 119 



host's angling stories on the way back to 

 his pleasant home at Guildford, with its 

 quaint old garden on the banks of the 

 Wey. ' Let 's see,' said Mr. Andrews medi- 

 tatively when we arrived there on the softest 

 of summer evenings, ' he says he only fishes 

 dry fly. Now (turning to me), you heard 

 of those five and six pounders I recently 

 put into the river ? Well, they are always 

 hanging about at the end of the garden. 

 Would you like to have a try ? My little 

 girl got broken in one the other day.' Then 

 he went down amongst the scarlet-runners 

 with a spade and a flower-pot filled with 

 moist moss, and proceeded to dig. After 

 which, I went a-dryfly-fishing — the method 

 being by float and lob-worm. I know that 

 I ought not to have done it ; but it was the 

 only sin I committed through the live-long 

 summer day. I think that those who spent 

 much time with Mr. Thomas Andrews, of 

 Crichmere, were as little likely to err seriously 

 as Walton or his friend Herbert. 



