IN THE BEGINNING 7 
land, and in any event I had no landing net with 
me. But a friend was near. He gave advice, 
and crowned all by waiting until the fish was 
exhausted, Then he stooped down, and safely 
got the mammoth fish out of the water for me 
with his hands. Overjoyed, I could not wait to 
extract the hook, which was in fact embedded, 
but sped home in triumph, with trout still 
attached to hook, cast, line, and rod. Sweet were 
the parental and brotherly and sisterly congratula- 
tions, The weight was duly returned at one 
pound fifteen ounces. How we remember these 
pleasing details ! 
Mention of the family brings to mind the only 
attempt I ever knew of my mother essaying a 
pun. Somebody had wanted to know if I would 
officiate at the organ on some modest occasion. 
“Tam sure he will,” said mother, “ but he is not 
in, at the moment; he’s off-fshing, as it is!” 
Although I was so keen, yet my methods had 
been hap-hazard, and it was not until after the 
turn of events had taken me to a town where no 
fishing was, and thence to another town right on 
the banks of the Severn in Shropshire that the 
novitiate was seriously entered upon. A man so 
near a fishable river either goes in for fishing, 
or leaves it alone. In my case this proximity 
was a perpetual invitation to fish, Even though 
I could manage but a few minutes at a time, 
there were six fishing days a week, and on Sunday 
I had to see what the water was like. I practised 
fly-casting assiduously, but my clumsy performance 
