A SURREY RIVER. 107 



perch, with all his spines raised, and his red fins 

 working, dashes at a beetle that has tumbled off a 

 fern-leaf, and is kicking and spinning round on his 

 back, in vain efforts to raise himself from the water. 

 One gulp, and Mr Perch vanishes again in the same 

 warlike manner in which he made his appearance. 

 That sight has roused our destructive inclinations 

 to the utmost ; the top joint of the rod is altered, 

 for he fights to the last, and he is a good fish. His 

 mouth is a wide one, so two nice fat worms will suit 

 him. All being ready, the bait is dropped into the 

 run of the sluice, and carried round by the current 

 to the side of the old wall. Bob, bob, bob, goes the 

 egg-shaped cork which we have as float ; and then 

 it is lost sight of — he has taken it nicely, and now 

 we have him, but not on the bank. He has a hole 

 somewhere in that wall where he lives. To prevent 

 his reaching this, we give a little gentle force ; the 

 rod bends to it and he does not like it, for he makes 

 a rush and springs from the water, showing what a 

 fine fellow he is, barred like a zebra. Again he 

 dives for deep water, and we wake him up once 

 more. A sharp turn or two, his white belly shows, 

 and we land him on the moss-covered edge of the 



