pursuit of flat-fish. Lofty minds can find no food for thought here.
The capture of the flounder (Pleuronectes flesus) does not at first sight seem to offer much opportunity for the exercise of preciosity. But it is possible that neolithic man regarded the trout itself as an article of diet rather than as a field for research, and where the flounder is concerned anglers are, generally speaking, in the same stage of civilisation as he. Yet, if the best of us have learned to see fario as he is, may not the bunglers grope after a clearer vision of flesus,
With my friend MacAlister I was seated in the Arctic Circle on a sunny afternoon by the side of a certain sea-stream, the entrance, that is to say, and the exit of the Atlantic into and out of a tidal lake. MacAlister had beaten the water cruelly until it had nearly all fled away into the sea. I may add that he had caught nothing. He had beaten the water, but the water had beaten him. The sea-trout lay off the mouth of the sea-stream and laughed in their beards. As for me, being clean-shaven, I laughed in my sleeve. MacAlister did not laugh at all. There was no sport to be had. We were, therefore, in a mood peculiarly suitable for the reception of the puristic seed when we were aware of Master Peer Gynt, who came delicately, on bare feet, over the pebbles
