POSTSCRIPT.
I forgot to say, that, if a friend should invite you to his house, saying that he will give you "an excellent day's fishing," you ought not to doubt his kind intention, but you certainly ought not to feel very sure that you will have good sport. Provide yourself for such a visit with everything which you may want, as if you were going into an uninhabited country. Above all things, take a landing-net with you. Your friend's (if he has one) is probably torn and without a handle, being a sort of reticulated shovel for taking fish out of the well of a punt. Take warning from the following story:—
The boy exclaiming, "Damn 'un, I miss'd 'un," instantly threw a second brick-bat.
To face page 23.
Mr. Jackson and Mr. Thompson went last week to the house of Mr. Jenkins, for a few days' fishing. They were received with the utmost kindness and hospitality by Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, and on the following morning after breakfast, the gardener (who was on that day called the fisherman) was desired to attend them to the river. Thompson, who had a landing-net of his own, begged to have a boy to carry it. Jack was immediately sent for, and he appeared in top boots, with a livery hat and waistcoat.
Arrived at the water-side, Thompson gave his gnat-basket to the boy, and told him to go on the other side of the river, and look on the grass for a few May-flies. Jack said that he did not exactly know what May-flies were, and that the river could not be crossed without going over a bridge a mile off. Thompson is a patient man, so he began to fish with his landing-net for a few May-flies, and after he had necessarily frightened away many fish, he succeeded in catching six or seven May-flies.
Working one of them with the blowing-line much to his own satisfaction, and thinking to extract a compliment from his attendant, he said, "They do not often fish here in this way—do they?" "No," said the boy, "they drags wi' a net; they did zo the day afore yesterday."
Our angler, after much patient fishing, hooked a fine trout; and having brought him carefully to the bank, he said, "Now, my lad, don't be in a hurry, but get him out as soon as you can." Jack ran to the water's edge, threw down the net, and seizing the line with both hands, of course broke it immediately.
Nothing daunted, Thompson now mended his tackle and went on fishing; and when he thought, "good easy man," that the very moment for hooking another trout was arrived, there was a great splash just above his fly;—and the boy exclaiming, "Damn un, I miss'd un," instantly threw a second brick-bat at a rat which was crossing the river.