CARPE DIEM 183 



delightful visions that at last I cannot sit still ; the 

 room, ay, and the town, seem to stifle me, and I 

 lono; for a glorious ramble, rod in hand, as much as 

 I ever did. 



Following close upon the perusal of such a book, 

 and the feelings awakened by it, I was pleased 

 beyond measure to find myself possessed of a few 

 days of leisure, and once more in the bonny border 

 land of Wales. I took care to make the most of 

 my time, and seize the opportunity of renewing my 

 acquaintance with some of those charming spots 

 with which, as an angler and a writer, I had in 

 times past identified myself. 



One day I spent in tracing the wanderings of 

 the burn whence a lusty trout had been transferred 

 to my pannier. Another afternoon I set out for a 

 carp pool, not the carp pool par excellence of our 

 boyish days, but one nearly as good, where I had 

 caught some six-pounders years ago. I walked to 

 the place — it was two miles and a half away — 

 burdened with three rods and a huge bagful of 

 worms, intent upon slaughter. I neared the field, 

 I crossed the hedge. I stood still and gazed in 

 astonishment. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. 

 There was no pool there. I walked round the field 

 and across the field, which was strewn with clumps 

 of rushes. A peewit had laid four eggs on the 



