A PIKE STORY. 27 



" We shall see," sulkily returned the mili- 

 tary man. " If any one can take him I 



can." 



" I'm damned if he will," whispered Sir F.'s 

 keeper in my ear, " not if he fishes a month o' 

 Sundays. Dashed if his tackle would hold a 

 six-pounder, let alone such a whopper as this 

 be. He won't take un, and he be as bad a shot 

 as he is a fisherman, always a-firing into the 

 brown on 'em. I can't think why master has 

 such chaps as he ; he do more harm to the 

 coveys and bags less birds than I ever see a 

 gent do, notwithstanding all his brag. He's 

 fitter a nation sight for a dinner table, or knock- 

 ing them 'ere balls about up at the house. No, 

 sir," he continued, " this 'ere fish ain't to be 

 took by he, nor no one else ; he's been tried far 

 too often ; he's up to snuff, and a pinch over I 

 reckon." 



The captain fished away day after day, but 

 not a run did he get, and he had to stand a 

 pretty good amount of chaff the same thing 

 every day, " What, no fish for dinner ?" 



The last day passed, and the fish was un- 

 caught. 



