wisdom tells them that the things which they do not understand are not necessarily to be derided. And this is a good wisdom.
I find that I have worked myself into something like a heat over this matter of the non-angler's attitude towards fishing costumes. This was not my intention. I am casting stones at a host of good people—kind fathers, devoted mothers, excellent sons, brothers, daughters, sisters, self-denying aunts, bland, tip-bestowing uncles. Because they snigger at an undoubtedly bizarre get-up they are not therefore by me to be censured, for I have done the same. I have been tickled in my time by a golfer's red jacket, but that was before I learned the reason for it. Had I known—as I know now—that it was worn as a danger signal to persons who stroll on links that they may keep out of earshot of the players, had I known this I should have recognised the worth of the coat, and my eyes would have been blind to its comicality. Ignorance lay at the root of my amusement.
In the hope, then, of clearing away a cloud or two from the perception of a few fellow-beings I have written what I have written. I do not hope for much result from my toil, but he is a coward who spares himself trouble on so shabby an excuse. And it may be that someone in some
