at a mess!" cried Mercer, coming to my help. "Ugh! you nasty,
slimy wretch! Mind, or he'll be off back into the--Ah, would you?"

He seized the line, and drew the eel farther from the water's edge,
waiting his opportunity, which came directly, for the fish rapidly
untwined itself, plunged its head amongst the grass, and began to make
its way like a snake when its course was checked by Mercer's foot
planted firmly behind its head.

"Ugh! how cruel!" I said.

"Serve him right. He's grown to be as big as this by catching and
eating all the poor little fish that went near him. He's good to eat
too, and what a big one! Why, he must be over a pound. Oh my, what a
mess!" he continued. "He has swallowed the hook right down, and there's
no getting it out till he's dead. Here, give me your handkerchief, I'll
use mine when I catch one."

I took out my handkerchief, and by his directions spread it upon the
grass, when he raised his foot, lifted up the line, and the fish again
twisted itself into a knot.

"That's the way," he said. "Now then, I'll drop him gently on to the
handkerchief, and you take the cross corners and tie them over him
tight, and then the other two. Ready?"

"Yes," I said, feeling no little repugnance to the slimy creature, but
getting first one knot and then the other fast over the big round
writhing fish, and this done to my companion's satisfaction, he whipped
out his knife and cut the line.

"There," he said, "we mustn't lose sight of him, or he'll eat his way
out if he don't find another way through the folds. No; I think he's
safe. I'll hang him here."

"Here" was the rugged stump of a small branch of one of the nearest
trees.

"Now," he said, "I'll try and catch one too before we go, and we shan't
have done so very badly."

"But you've cut my hook off," I said. "How am I to fish?"

"You'll have to watch me, for I haven't another hook. Come along. We
mustn't stop much longer, or we shan't be back to tea. Stand your rod
up against that tree."

He was already half-way back to the penstock and caught up his rod, but
no fish had attacked it this time, and we stood side by side once more,
leaning against the post, watching his float, as he tried first in one
place, then in another, without success.

"We shall have to give it up and go," he said at last. "We must get
back to tea. We'll give the carp to Polly Hopley, she likes fish, and
the eel too."

"Look! a bite," I whisper