THAMES ANGLING. 357 



and hoping almost against hope that she would eventually 

 say a word or two commendatory of my skill — I had 

 learnt the art by continuous practice as a boy — but she 

 made no sign. She was one of those many who think 

 that " what is done easily is easy to be done." At last 

 I ventured an observation on the subject of punting, and 

 elicited an encouraging reply to the effect that she 

 thought any one could do it. I then suggested that as it 

 was so easy she should punt me a little way — we were then 

 in the dead water above a Thames lock — to which she 

 readily assented and essayed the definite task of punting 

 a distance of about 150 yards to the lock, on the comple- 

 tion of which I was to stand indebted to her for a pair of 

 Piver's best gloves. To say that she made no progress 

 would be untrue. After a quarter of an hour's gyrations, 

 collisions with the banks, and crab-like movements, we 

 had advanced about twenty yards, and then the attempt 

 was given up in despair, and apparently with no slight 

 mortification. I resumed the pole, but nothing further 

 was said on the subject of punting. I must confess that 

 few things annoy me more than the consciousness that 

 spectators often witness one practising an art which has 

 taken years perhaps to acquire, and are never struck with 

 the idea that it is an art at all, but rather think it is 

 within the compass of any ordinary fool. Some lubber, 

 for instance, will watch you with all the intense vacancy 

 of which he is capable spinning for jack ; or from the top 

 of a weir for trout, deftly gathering your line in the palm 

 of your left hand to be released with unerring accuracy 

 again for a throw of some forty yards or so ; and think, if 

 indeed he is capable of thinking, that there is " nothing 

 in it." Just so as regards punting. Everybody thinks 



