| Izaak Walton said it best |
Author: Miss Marple
Date: 02-20-12 07:01
I have laid aside business, and gone a'fishing.
One of Miss Marple's treasured books was Izaak Walton's A Compleat Angler; she had even made the pilgrimage to his grave in Winchester Cathedral. Johnson might have commented that a person could never tire of London, but Miss Marple along with Izaak Walton knew that one could never get tired of fishing.
It was almost a relief to put down the knitting needles and pick up a fishing rod and reel. However, which rod?
Miss Marple pulled her collection of rods out of the cupboard under the stairs and sorted through until she found the perfect rod and reel for this challenge. She then checked her tackle box making sure she had everything that she might need. Lures of various types including some hand tied flies along with extra line were snugly arranged and in good condition. Miss Marple always tried to put her gear away in tip top condition.
Would she need the waders? Miss Marple thought not-- after all it was just fishing in a pond--it was not as if she were to be trout fishing in the river.
She opened the door of her cozy cottage, posted up the note saying "Gone fishing", picked up the tackle box and rod, and headed out--making sure the door was securely fastened and locked behind her. After all, if she were away, who would ensure that no crime went unpunished in St. Mary's Mead.
Through the magic of Pan, as Miss Marple stepped to the kerb, a bus rumbled down the road--a bus labeled "to the fishing pond."
"Perfect," thought Miss Marple as she flagged down the bus, put her fare of a pound (prices were outrageous nowadays) into the grubby hand of the collector and settled into her seat. No one else was on the bus. This was a good sign. Sometimes that pushy Jessie was in Miss Marple's way, but would such a person as Jessie understand the joys of fishing. Probably not.
As the bus careened through the streets and lanes, and sometimes even sped along the highways, Miss Marple thought fondly of some of Walton's thoughts and stories about fishing and about some of the experiences she herself had had while chasing the fish.
"Fish Pond Stop." A mechanical voice woke Miss Marple from her fishing reveries. She gathered her gear and exited the bus which took off as soon as both of her feet were on the ground. In front of her was a path and some signs that said "To the Fish Pond."
It did not take Miss Marple long to make her way into the enclosure where the pond was. The pond? It was just an odd shaped swimming pool manned by an odd looking woman and an even odder looking creature and some poor wretch jumping up and down by the side of the pool screaming in a falsetto voice "I caught the whale, I caught the whale!"
"Excuse me. Where is the fish pond?" Miss Marple had learned to use her severe yet compassionate voice with this sort of people.
"Here."
"This is nothing but a swimming pool. I came for a day of fishing; you cannot fish in a swimming pool." Miss Marple was unanimous in that opinion.
"This is a swimming pool at Pan Historia--anything can happen," was the response.
The gormless twit was still jumping up and down at one end of the pool as Miss Marple made her way to the other end. She pulled one of the chairs close to the edge of the pool and moved one of the umbrellas so that the chair was shaded. One could not be too careful about protecting her fair English complexion--especially since she had forgotten her sunscreen.
She pulled out one of her Luck E Strike swimmer jigs, fastened it to the end of her line and made a perfect cast. Those skills once learned never faded from one's memory.
This might be a lesson in futility, but it was an outing from St. Mary's Mead and aside from the odd duo who were running this place and that strange little man in a dress, Miss Marple was away from anything resembling crime. Let Poiret do his share for a change if he could do anything while wearing those shoes which were three sizes too small.
Miss Marple decided to just enjoy the day when she felt a tug on her line. Could there actually be some fish in this fishpond?

|
|

|
|