inis surly, and got o so t   a lake, about a y yards across. It onis t age it astonis t fifty from London, you could ude. You felt as mucely round by trees, ed in ter. On tc, and up at one end of tting among the bulrushes.

    t four to six incurn er. too, and t  sometimes one t urn over and plunge  o ter. It rying to catcried every time I  tried t in t alive in a jam-jar, and even  of a bit of tin. But t bite, and in any case tackle I possessed. I never came back from t at least a dozen small bream. Sometimes in t te and to ter and  of all o be alone, utterly alone, t a quarter of a mile a old enougo kno it’s good to be alone occasionally. itrees all round you it o you, and notirred except ter and t, in t I  fisimes did I really go, I  more t ook up a  least. And sometimes oturned up, and sometimes o go it rained. You knohings happen.

    One afternoon t biting and I began to explore at t from Binfield  of an overfloer and to fig of jungle of blackberry busten boug rees. I struggled t for about fifty yards, and to anoted. It  more ty yards  over. But it er and immensely deep. I could see ten or fifteen feet doo it. I  for a bit, enjoying tten boggy smell, t almost made me jump out of my skin.

    It e   t glided across ter, and to ter on t as if a s fisood t breat anoter, and toget possibly tenc more probably carp. Bream or tenc groime ted ream   been forgotten. It’s a t s forgotten some for years and decades and to monstrous sizes. tes t I c be a  a soul in t t me.