THE PERCH. 229 



a 4 lb. fish of course a better still ; and though I will not 

 say there is not a 4 lb. perch in the Thames, I would give 

 an angler a whole season's perch-fishing, and make a 

 handsome wager he does not catch one of that weight. 

 One of this weight, however, was taken at Chertsey 

 bridge by a gentleman, spinning, in April, 1876 ; and of 

 course returned to the river. To sum up I say," Youthful, 

 middle-aged, or grey -haired angler, if you catch a 2 lb. 

 perch, be contented; if a 31b., be happy; if a 41b., be 

 superlatively rejoiceful, and invite all your piscatorial 

 friends to an oyster supper (3*. 6d. per dozen), with still 

 Moselle or best Ohablis; if one over 4 lbs., you have ac- 

 complished the object of your life, and fulfilled your mis- 

 sion ; you have nothing else worth living for ; send me 

 your stock-in-trade of tackle and all your orders to fish 

 the best waters in the kingdom, — and die (as soon as 

 possible) happy." 



I have an idea that readers of books on angling like to 

 hear something about the writer's personal experiences 

 with the fish he is treating of, and to find in his pages a 

 few records of his " takes." Here, then, is a brief one 

 of "A day with the Thames Perch," two years ago, in the 

 month of February. 



Up by candle-light — a most disagreeable operation — 

 and off breakfastless from Paddington by the seven a.m. 

 train, which crawls down to Taplow at a slower pace than 

 that in which relays of fair trotters could do the journey. 

 In due, or rather undue time, I am at Maidenhead Bridge, 

 and at Ned Andrews' cottage, where some rashers of an 

 excellent gammon of bacon frizzling in the pan, and some 

 hot tea, lead to the enjoyment of a most appetizing break- 

 fast before we commence operations, Mrs. Andrews pro- 



