I am not surprised at this (failing new editions at rather frequent intervals), but as a friend of man, and especially of man the angler, I am sorry. I believe I have read almost everything that has been written on the subject of fishing which comes within ordinary scope, and a certain amount which is outside that scope, and I have amassed fishing books to the number of several hundred. There is, however, comparatively little of all this considerable literature that I keep on a special shelf for reading and re-reading, a couple of dozen volumes maybe—and a quarter of those Red Spinner's. Realising what a pleasure and refreshment these books are to me and how often one or other of them companions the evening tobacco, I can the better appreciate the loss occasioned to other anglers by their gradual removal from the lists of the obtainable.

But not very long ago I heard the good news that you had another volume on the stocks, and I felt that the situation was improving. And now I have had the privilege of actually reading that volume in the proof sheets and can report the glad tidings for the benefit of my brethren of the angle. At last they will be able to procure one of your books by the simple process of entering a bookseller's and asking for it. I do not propose here to say much about the new volume except that it will certainly stand beside Waterside Sketches on that special shelf and that it will take its turn with the others in the regular sequence of re-reading. It is the real article, what I may call "genuine Red Spinner," hallmark and all. I must express my satisfaction that you have given in it some further record of the angling in other lands which you have enjoyed in your much-travelled experience. The Antipodes, Canada, the United States, Norway, Belgium before the tragedy—you make it all just as vivid to us as those cold spring days on the rolling Tay, the glowing time of lilac and Mayfly, or the serene evenings when the roach float dips sweetly at every swim. Whatever one's mood, salmon or gudgeon, spinning bait or black gnat, Middlesex or Mississippi, your pages have something to suit it.

Ever since I first met you, on a September evening at Newbury now nearly twenty years ago, you have consistently given me ever-increasing cause for gratitude. Whether as accomplished journalist and Editor of the Field, as writer and author of books, as a man with a genius for friendship, if I may quote the phrase, or as an expert with rod and line—in whatever guise you appeared I had cause to thank you for allowing me "to call you Master." That I am able to do so now thus publicly means that one at least of my ambitions has been realised. And I will take leave to subscribe myself with all affection, "Your scholar,"
H. T. SHERINGHAM.

CONTENTS

[INTRODUCTION]
[AN OPEN LETTER]
CHAPTER
I. [ANGLING AS A REAL FIELD SPORT]
II. [MANFORD AND SERTON'S COSY NEST]
III. [MAYFLY DAYS AND DIALOGUES]
IV. [MY FIRST TWEED SALMON]
V. [MUSINGS OF A BUSH RIDE]
VI. [WITH VERDANT ALDERS CROWN'D]
VII. [A FIRST SPRINGER AND SOME OTHERS]
VIII. [ANGLING COUSINS AT THE VICARAGE]
IX. [A CONTRAST IN THAMES ANGLING]
X. [TWO RED LETTER SALMON]
XI. [A SERMON ON VEXATIONS AND CONSOLATIONS]
XII. [THE SALMON AND THE KODAK]
XIII. [HALFORD AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES]
XIV. [CASUAL VISITS TO NORWAY]
XV. [CASTING FROM ROCKS AND BOATS]
XVI. [SOME CONTRARIES OF WEATHER AND SPORT]
XVII. [LAST DAYS WITH NORWAY AND ITS SEA TROUT]
XVIII. [GLIMPSES OF CANADA, ETC.]
XIX. [HASTY VISITS TO AMERICA]
XX. [A DEVASTATED ARCADIA]

LINES IN PLEASANT PLACES

CHAPTER I

ANGLING AS A REAL FIELD SPORT

One of the commonest misconceptions about angling is that it is just the pastime for an idle man. "The lazy young vagabond cares for nothing but fishing!" exclaims the despairing mother to her sympathetic neighbour of the next cottage listening to the family troubles. Even those who ought to know better lightly esteem the sport, as if, forsooth, there were something in the nature of effeminacy in its pursuit.