FISHES OF MY CHILDHOOD 15 



quill caps in a pill-box, and the winder was a 

 piece of split bamboo. 



To fasten the tackle together, to attach the line 

 to the rod by its solitary ring, and to rehearse 

 the dropping of the line into the water (by means 

 of a tiny pool in the back garden) was my 

 cherished occupation the greater part of the day. 

 In the evening I took the entire apparatus to 

 pieces, arranged it in orderly fashion on a table, 

 and gazed upon it reverently, and at bedtime I 

 laid it by my bedside. 



At intervals I had discussions with my big 

 brother upon the mysteries of the gentle art of 

 angling — how to plumb the depth of water, how 

 to adjust the float to suit the various kinds of 

 fish, which I fondly hoped would be caught. The 

 weighty subject of how to make the float remain 

 upright was explained to me by my brother, the 

 split shots were adjusted, and the use of the caps 

 pointed out. 



Then came the questions : Was the line to be 

 drawn up directly the float began to bob? How 

 long must I wait before striking, and must I strike 

 smartly or slowly ? Lastly, what bait must I 

 use? 



My brother suggested in turn, paste, gentles, 

 wasps, grubs, lobs, &c., as bait, but seemed 



