THE BOOKLET TO THE READER— 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL. 
I make my bow to the angling world as one who believes he is, as the 
Police say, “ Wanted.” 
I beg to say that I am not a compilation. I was not, like a charity 
collection, “begged;” nor, like a lost umbrella, “borrowed;” nor, 
like a gipsy’s child, “stolen.” I am the legitimate son of my father. 
He enlisted early in the F. F. Regiment of Foot. My mother, who 
was of Puritan descent, was named Drudgery Patience Experience. 
Three children were born to them. My eldest brother was a mixed 
sort of character, and was pretty well known to the public under the 
name of Strange Experience , though some critical wiseacres tried to 
damn him because of a bad habit that he had of punning. The wiser, 
however, discerned that he had some good stuff in him to which even 
that could not blind them. My second brother took to ballad singing 
about fish — a sort of poetic “Grove.” Pie was christened accordingly 
Lyra. Piscatoria. He has not “ come out ” yet, but hopes to do so — if 
anglers have any taste.* I was the third son. I was a self-taught 
youth, and picked up my education — not exactly in the gutter, but — 
down the Coin way, near the Cotswolds. My father intended me for a 
Drill Sergeant. As such, I offer my humble services. My highest 
ambition is to stand in relation to Mr. Halford’s magnum opus as such 
an officer does to the Adjutant on the Parade Ground. 
Of course, my reader, you will go on to put yourself under him after 
continuing a year or so with me. If you don’t, you deserve to remain 
all your life among The Awkward Squad. 
* See Advertisement at the end. 
