Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: II. The Bent Pin. ". . . As unto the -weaker vessel. . . ."—i Pet. iii. 7. " IT'S ill feeshin' wi' bent pins," old Sandy once said to me when I was a boy, and had broken the barb of my hook against a stone: at which sarcasm I could not repress an angry flush as I tried a shorter cast with a new fly. In earlier years I did not despise the bent pin when I used to go out with my nurse, or my brother, and fish for sticklebacks in the brook, with a string. But somehow one gets out of the way of practising that branch of angling, and when I started on my honeymoon I certainly did not think that I should ever be tempted to take to it again. However, early married life is full of surprises, and one of my first was a fishing adventure with a bent pin. In sporting phraseology, I had landed my matrimonial fish in August,—to carry out the simile I suppose I ought to represent Hymen standing by with a gaff instead of a torch,— and we had chosen the Lakes for our honeymoon. I like being near water; and as my wife was anxious to visit the land of Wordsworth, we gave ourselves up to touring about from lake to lake, unfettered by rigid plans, basking in the sunshine, and making each other's acquaintance. One day we were strolling along, arm in arm, within sight of the placid mirror of Ulleswater, when we came upon a grove of cherry trees loaded with a plentiful crop of the small black and juicy fruit which is so common in that part of the country. Two boys were lodged in the branches of two neighbouring trees, busily engaged in eating cherries, and occasionally throwing down a few to a bright-eyed little girl who stood below. She was bareheaded, her hat dangling by a piece of elastic from one podgy little fist, and she kept begging her brothers to give her a share of their spoil, an...