A SPRING FISHING 5 



fish and fishing brought him finally to the 

 mill at Trestrenou. I was lighting my 

 pipe when the proposal was broached. 

 His cousin, it seemed, was the miller, and 

 his river far-famed among the fishers of 

 Morbihan. True, it was a long journey, 

 some twenty kilometres by road, and the 

 Lion d'Or boasted no carriage. But then, 

 again, Monsieur le Maire had often ex- 

 pressed a wish to go a-fishing, so we would 

 invite Monsieur le Maire and drive in his 

 cart. And had I tasted the Mayor's old 

 burgundy ? He smacked his lips, and 

 blew a kiss as only a Frenchman can. Of 

 course we must take a hamper with our 

 dejeuner — to-morrow ? To-morrow would 

 be excellent — that is, if I could tear my- 

 self for a day from my glorious art. I 

 could ! Tant mieuoc. Once a fisherman, 

 always a fisherman. Then nothing would 

 serve but that Anastasie should go and 

 present many compliments to Monsieur le 

 Maire ; and would he, perhaps, step across 

 and join us in a " night-cap " to discuss an 

 affair of the most important ? 



Ten minutes later the Mayor arrived — 

 a stout, kindly little man, wearing a tail- 



