touching bottom a few inches in front of the flounder's nose. This manoœuvre can be executed only if the angler maintains the hypnotic gaze. If his eye wavers for an instant the flounder will see the descent of the landing-net and dart away. All being ready, the purist will advance the right foot and tread heavily on the tail of the flounder. The flounder will then dash into the landing-net. This is the crude form of the sport.
MacAlister and I soon tired of such simple work, and began to refine upon it. We allowed the puristic part of our natures full play. We raised flounder-fishing to the dignity of what it is—an art. First of all we ruled out all spears, baits, and hooks. These we left to Master Peer Gynt and the pot-hunters. Then we made a law that no flounder should be touched except on clean sand. This was necessary, because MacAlister had shown symptoms of wishing to take his hands to them among the weed. The man who would guddle flesus would be capable of any infamy. Thirdly, we decided that any fish which should bolt into the net before he should actually be trodden on, should be considered "foul started" and returned to the water. We fixed a size limit—a two-and-threepenny French fireproof frying-pan. Then we made any but round-mouthed landing nets unlawful and impure. A
