groaned poor Dick. “But you, sir,” turning on Mr. Twoshoes—“had it not been for your mysterious goings on—had you only acted like any other reasonable man—this would never have happened.”
“So long as my good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Starling, are satisfied with their lodger, I do not recognise your right to interfere in my concerns. As, however, my business in this neighbourhood will be over in a few days, I will at once give Mrs. Starling that explanation which, under the circumstances, she has a right to expect; and which you, Mr. Dereham, are at liberty to listen to, if you think well to do so. Know, therefore, all persons whom it may concern, that I, James Twoshoes (though whether that is my real name or not does not in the least matter), am a member of the Metropolitan Detective Force—not a sham officer like your friend Jibble, Mr. Dereham; that I came down here to hunt out a certain nest of forgers, whose handiwork we had traced to this part of the country, without being exactly able to lay our fingers on the rogues themselves; that, as a natural consequence, a certain amount of secrecy and mystery were essential to my plan, which plan, I am happy to say, has proved completely successful. And now, Mr. Dereham, you and I had better step down to the police station, and furnish the details of the robbery. Perhaps we may succeed in tracing the rascals. Anyhow, we have been charmingly sold.”
Mr. Twoshoes had quite recovered his good humour by breakfast time next morning, and could afford to laugh as heartily as any one at his mishap; but Dick was nowhere to be found. He had, in fact, risen with the lark, and set out for London by the first train; and from that day to this we have never seen his face in Markhallow.
Of Captain Julius and his confederate, it is only necessary to say that they were captured some three months later, in consequence of a second robbery in which they again acted as partners; and that they finally met with the reward which their peculiar talents merited so well.
THE PERCH.
As it is now the season when this interesting and beautiful fish may be said to afford most sport to the fresh-water angler, and when indeed it is perhaps more sought after than any other river-fish whatever, a few words concerning some of its habits and peculiarities may possibly be acceptable to the generality of readers.
The perch may be reckoned (with the exception perhaps of the trout) the most beautiful of all fresh-water fish; it is well known and common in most of the countries in Europe, inhabiting ponds, rivers, lakes, and all pieces of fresh water where its natural food is abundant. The largest of the species are to be taken in the river Danube, where, as a rule, they run far higher (that is, are of heavier weight) than in British waters, or indeed than in those of most other European states. Very fine perch are also caught in the Scotch and Irish lakes; but there is no question that those of the Danube are usually the finest and best. In that river—one of the most noble and picturesque of the Continent—this fish is taken of three, four, six, and seven pounds weight; and instances have been known of still heavier ones; but in Great Britain the weight of the perch rarely exceeds three pounds, and one of two pounds weight would be considered a fine fish. The average weight in English waters is from half a pound to one pound and a half. The writer took one of three pounds and a quarter at Godstow, near Oxford, in the May of 1853, and one of nearly four pounds at Henley-on-Thames in the autumn of 1848; the bait in each case being a minnow; but such cases are quite exceptional, and rarely happen but to those who—as the writer has done—may make fish and fishing a study as well as an occasional pastime.
In the months of September, October, November, and so on until February, there is no fresh water fish that affords the angler more sport than the perch—perhaps none that affords so much—as he is a very greedy feeder, and, when the rivers and ponds begin to get clear of weeds, may be taken with almost any bait at any hour of the day. When the days are warmish, very early and very late is the best time for perch-fishing; but on a cool, cloudy day in autumn and winter they feed best in the middle of the day. An easterly wind is very bad for this sport, as it is indeed for the taking of all fresh-water fish. There are many ways of catching the perch into which the writer cannot enter at length; but the three best are by what is termed “spinning” (which, however, all true sportsmen eschew as next door to poaching), by cork-float fishing, and by using what is termed a paternoster, which is a line having a leaden weight at the end, and three hooks baited with three different baits, each bait being of a different size to the other two. The line is gently drawn through the water, somewhat after the fashion of trolling, but more slowly. The second, however, of these methods is, in my opinion,—and I am a perch-fisher of many years’ experience,—the best of the three I have mentioned. Use, with a stoutish line, a cork float, the body of which shall be the size of a pigeon’s egg, neither larger nor smaller, and a hook in proportion to the kind of bait you employ, since it is obvious that that used for a live-bait would be far too large for a worm. Perch anglers use in the way of live-bait a gudgeon, minnow, small dace, or bleak, at discretion; and I have often heard the first mentioned as the best, but I have no hesitation in giving my own testimony and opinion in favour of the minnow, with which bait I have killed perch in all waters, at all seasons, and at all hours of the day, when I had tried all the others, and also the brandling, in vain. The perch-fisher may obtain all the tackle he requires at Farlow’s in the Strand, and suit himself there far better than he could from any description of mine.
Perch can be taken in almost all our rivers, especially the Thames, Colne, Lea, Mole, and Dove, as well as in most large lakes and ponds. Henley, Marlow, Wargrave, Reading, Walton, Shepperton, Shiplake, Sunbury, and Kingston-on-the-Thames are excellent places for sport, and the intending perch-angler may note that from September to February a deep pool near a mill-stream,
