290 AN ANGLER'S SEASON 



netfu' to carry to the railway station 

 are smeared wi' what d'ye ca' it ? 

 phosphorus, I think, and shine. I put 

 them on at sunset, thinkin' that the 

 water would be doon enough thi' nicht 

 for an hour or so with the leister. 

 Excuse me. They're no' dirty only 

 glowin'. They're very usefu' at the 

 leisterin' savin' me frae troublin' wi' a 

 torch, which splashes a body wi' pitch. 

 I've only to bend ower the bow o' the 

 boat, and there, in a jiffy, are the 

 salmon ! But the fish I'm going to show 

 you, hoping youll accept it, was no' 

 ta'en that way. I took it on a flee this 

 morning, just after daybreak. Fair 

 sport." 



Here the speech stopped. So did 

 Peter himself. He bent down ; moved a 

 hand about upon the turf ; found an iron 

 ring ; pulled ; and raised a trap-door. 



" No' a bad arrangement this," he said. 

 " Nae doobt when you've been fishin' on 

 the bank opposite you've noticed the 

 mouth of the big culvert on this side. 



