|
From: | Amabel Jimenez |
Subject: | [Formuleweb-general] thwart |
Date: | Thu, 7 Sep 2006 15:48:02 -0600 |
Sure enough, old Brewer had sent round and told
everybody. Cmon back to the village and lets getold of some tackle.
He lived in London onthe rent of his farms and let
the house and grounds go to thedevil. Grasshoppersare about the best bait there is,
especially for chub.
But it was in the holidays that onereally lived. He
lived in London onthe rent of his farms and let the house and grounds go to
thedevil.
But it was in the holidays that onereally
lived.
But Ive still got, Ive always had, that
peculiarfeeling for fishing. It was a rotten part of the pool, a partwhere no fish
would ordinarily come. You felt as much alone as if youd been on the banks ofthe
Amazon. It was no use trying forthose colossal brutes with the tackle I had. The
next thing was a needle to make a hook. After I was sixteen I didnt go fishing
again. Gentles live longer if you keep themin sawdust.
But I didnt run away from thepool, I ran in
circles. Just possibly they were bream ortench, but more probably carp.
By this time it was evening and getting on
towardsdark.
The pool was swarming with bream, small ones, about
four to sixinches long.
Theres a kind ofpeacefulness even in the names of
English coarse fish. Its becausetheres some devil in us that drives us to and fro on
everlastingidiocies. And I couldnt go on fishing any longer forthe tiny bream. But
the next moment there wasnt any doubt about it. Joe flung himself into the water,
splashingus all over, and grabbed him in both hands.
Bread paste you make bysqueezing water through
white bread in a rag.
He was a great expert on dogs, ferrets, cage-birds,
fighting-cocks, and that kind of thing.
|
[Prev in Thread] | Current Thread | [Next in Thread] |