vi A FEBRUARY PIKE . 97 



one, had resolved its doubts, and that barely, 

 for its nineteen-pound struggles had been 

 misinterpreted as the seductions of a wee 

 timorous bait. The monster had come forth 

 from the depths to take advantage of the 

 situation, and had only been driven off by 

 the heroism of angler and keeper, who would 

 not submit tamely to the insolence that re- 

 garded nineteen pounds of hard-earned pike 

 as no better than four ounces of dace. 

 Therefore they repelled the giant with 

 shoutings and splashings, landed their nine- 

 teen-pounder, and took it away to the 

 taxidermist ; in fact, if evidence of the 

 story were needed, the fish might now be 

 seen in a glass case with gold letters on it. 



These Gargantuan fables were, even to 

 an intelligence enfeebled by recent influenza, 

 obviously but the persiflage of the club, the 

 imaginative flights that every honest angler 

 takes from time to time into the unknown. 

 Nevertheless, they chimed in wonderfully 

 with the convalescent mood that suggested 

 a holiday and a pike or so to end the season, 

 and next day I put myself with my tackle 

 into a cab, and then into an express train, 

 little dreaming that I was about to enjoy 



H 



