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Jun 2014
Izak Walton, it was his fault!  I was hooked. I read and re read The Compleat Angler. I could have quoted chapter and verse. Something had to be done! there was a brook nearby, at the edge of the wood it's crystal waters contained Red Throated Sticklebacks, I was thinking of something bigger, my mind was full of fifty pound Pike and Carp as fat as pigs, goodness knows where they were to come from, at that age my mind only took one step at a time.  I needed to dam the brook, that was certain, I borrowed Dad's new *****, building a dam couldn't be that difficult, I found a good place to start, where there had once been a silted up pool, If I built a good dam where the brook ran between high banks, it would soon start to form a wide pool.  I started digging on Saturday morning and dug all day. Dad used to call me his "little digger" but he spelled it differently!  After digging all day, I stuck Dad's new ***** into the turf by the dam and climbed an Ash tree so that I could get a good view as the dam filled up, which it did, quite quickly. No one had seen me at work, apart from the mad horse, which used to come charging up from time to time, It had broken the legs of the farmers son, the year before, but I used to jump into a hole in the middle of a very prickly gorse bush, and wait till it got bored, after five minutes it would wander off and chase the geese on the other side of the field. Then work could continue for another hour or so.  I began to get excited as the dam filled and my thoughts turned to fish, where could I get some fish? while my attention was occupied with thoughts of large carp the farmer suddenly appeared walking towards the dam and looking particularly bad tempered. I have to say that he was not the least bit pleased to see the results of my labours! He siezed my dads new *****, which I had so carefully broken in and he cut the dam wide open!  I still remember the roar as the water gushed out of my dam. The farmer had not seen me, I was sixty feet up in the tree, his gaze was focussed on the things nearer the ground. He didn't like me and he wore clogs, they could hurt if if he kicked you, (I speak from  painful experience. )  "Bernard, do you know where my new ***** is?" I shook my head. "Well do you?"  "I can't say that I do dad". Oh the shame of it has haunted me ever since!  Next time I build something, I will need to find a better spot. A tree house might be just the thing! more anon.
B J Clement
Written by
B J Clement  Lothersdale. north yorks
(Lothersdale. north yorks)   
493
   Manda Clement
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