i AT DAWN OF DAY 13 



catch a glimpse of a broad copper-coloured 

 side. At last the fish is mastered, and the 

 angler, changing his rod to the left hand, 

 takes his net in the right. Now he rises 

 and, stooping down over the rushes, dips 

 the net under the fish and the battle is won. 

 His pocket-scales tell us that the fish weighs 

 two pounds and a half. Though it is a 

 bream, which is not a very determined 

 fighter, it is no small triumph to have 

 landed so heavy a fish on a single hair. 

 Our friend appears well pleased ; but we do 

 not grudge him his pleasure, for we know 

 that ever in the track of joy follow sorrow 

 and black care. 



Our philosophy is proved, for scarce has 

 he baited and re-set his line than his other 

 float sinks into the depths. With hasty 

 hand he strikes and another is hooked ; but 

 no, it is only a paltry little eel which has 

 absorbed both worm and hook. Had its 

 proportions been equal to its will, it would 

 have swallowed line, rod, and angler too. 

 It is evidently no welcome guest, and it is 

 ten to one that the angler will be a hook 

 the poorer. And so he is ; but the eel's 

 corpse is flung far away over the river, and 



