68 Suvwicr Studies of Birds and Books chap, m 



almost cease to hear the note of the Wood-wren 

 coming towards me through the lichened oak-boughs, 

 while I extract one little trout after another from the 

 peaty water. I could almost wish that, like these 

 Wood-wrens, the trout had a voice to express his 

 hopes and fears ; if that were so, I think my fishing 

 career would once more be a thing of the past. It 

 may be that one reason at least why of all sports 

 fishing is the only one that pleases me is because a 

 fish is a silent animal. You haul him from his 

 element — he complains not but by gesture ; you put 

 a speedy end to his existence by a sharp knock — he 

 leaves his life indignant but in silence. There is a 

 certain tarn among these hills where the trout are 

 said, when caught, to give vent to their indignation 

 in inarticulate sounds ; but I have never fished in 

 that pool, nor, if I found the story true, would I fish 

 there a second time. 



