XIII 
IN THE SMOKING ROOM 
HAT delightful companions has one 
\ \ / met at this little out-of-the-way hotel, 
at that cosy riverside inn, to which 
one had gone, not knowing a soul. 
It is rare for an angler at a fishing inn not to 
make friends with others of the brotherhood who 
are staying there. The smoking room is a rare 
cementer of friendships. 
Among many good fellows whom I have met 
in this way I often think of that excellent angler, 
the Major, who has figured before in these pages. 
The Major, by his way of doing things and by 
his personality, makes friends wherever he goes. 
It is part of his nature. In two days in a fishing 
village he gets to know almost every man in the 
place. In three days his reputation for kindness 
is established. In four, he is quoted as an 
authority: “The Major says” this, or “ the 
Major says” that. Not that he says very much ; 
on the contrary, he is a listener. When any one 
tells him anything, the speaker is made to feel he 
is the only man in the world. 
Part of the Major’s equipment when trout 
