vii FISHERMAN BILLY in 



the white side uppermost. When a pike 

 takes the bait the trimmer turns over and 

 turns red blushes for shame, in fact ; then 

 you go and chase it in a boat. The use of 

 these things is reprehensible, but, no, on 

 second thoughts I will not speak of the 

 fascination of the game ; I will merely 

 denounce them and so leave them. 



In his heart Old Billy despises me for 

 sticking to the rod as good sportsmen ought ; 

 but fish, he admits, we shall probably catch, 

 for the water is right and the weather. 

 There were a few degrees of frost last night 

 and it is still cold. The amiable red sun 

 that is now well up will make it a little less 

 cold presently, but not much ; this De- 

 cember day he is more for ornament than 

 use. The air, however, is dry, and there is 

 no wind ; this is the cold that makes one 

 vigorous and does not induce shivering fits. 

 It is, in short, as fair a day for winter fishing 

 as could be wished. Old Billy paddles the 

 punt out to the marks, if I may borrow a 

 term from those that go down to the sea 

 in ships, and sticks in his rypecks just at the 

 head of the farther eddy. For some un- 

 explained reason most of the pike inhabit 



