wit: On
returning from one of my visits to Loddon-side I secured through an old
friend of Miss Mitford a note in her handwriting, and was not a little
impressed and amused on discovering that the envelope in which it was
inclosed had been previously used and turned no doubt by the lady
herself. It was only by accident--so neatly had the operation been
performed--that I saw inside the original address, "Miss Mitford, Three
Mile Cross, Reading, Berks." Soon after leaving Swallowfield, the
Loddon, passing Arborfield Hurst and Twyford, yields up its life to the
Thames by way of a modest delta.

Are there anywhere in England larger chub than those of the Loddon? It
is not to be supposed that the alders extend their fattening influence
to the fish as well as to the plants; but its existence in bush form,
and in the serried ranks to which I have above referred, undoubtedly
favours the long life of this shy fish. He lies under its overhanging
boughs out of the way of even the most daring long corker, and from the
leaves during the hot summer days drop unceasing relays of luscious
insect food. The Loddon chub are nevertheless extremely voracious at
odd times. Pike fishermen often get them with both live and dead bait,
and I myself in the unregenerate days of trolling took a big one with
gorge bait. An honest-minded chub may anywhere be expected to be led
astray by a prettily-vestured minnow, and there is no disgrace
attaching to its character if it allows itself to be seduced by a
well-spun gudgeon; but to tackle a 4-oz. dead roach, and be
ignominiously finished off by a coarse gorge hook, is not exactly what
one looks for. Yet this frequently occurred on the Loddon.

I rather suspect I had an experience in this direction. A kind friend
had invited me to spend a day on the Loddon, not very far from that
same Swallowfield of which I have been sentimentalising. We drove in
the fresh autumn morning along the charming country road, inhaling the
balm of the pines and watching the graceful squirrels at their
after-breakfast antics in the oaks. And we congratulated ourselves
upon the prospect. There was a little rime on the grass, for I had
left town by gaslight, but all other conditions were as favourable as
if they had been made to order. There were plenty of bait and a boat
at our disposal.

My kind friend pointed with a warm smile to a snug hamper in the
carriage. The world under these circumstances looked fair. W