4 GOLDEN DAYS 



all, we got two brace between us — that 

 was a big fish on the specially tied Mayfly 

 which broke you in the run below the 

 hatch-hole. Then our lunch — you re- 

 member ? Under the apple-trees in the 

 orchard ? Those red ants in the ginger- 

 beer ; my hard-boiled egg was bad. . . . 

 That was a good day too. 



In selecting dates from the Breton 

 diary, one is prompted by an egotism, 

 more or less unconscious, to pick out only 

 the red-letter days when all went well, 

 so to hand on to one's friends the bags 

 that were disproportionately heavy — or 

 should we say less light than usually was 

 the case ? I would try, however, only to 

 touch on days which possibly may be of 

 some small help to other fishermen, 

 remembering also the insuperable diffi- 

 culty of giving more than a slight impres- 

 sion of each picture as I see it. 



***** 



Dinner had finished at the Lion d'Or. 

 Anastasie had just filled the coffee glasses, 

 and placed the cqfetiere on the open hearth. 

 The Greffier was pouring out an ample 

 fine maisoii, and his voluble discourse on 



