Them as likes me calls me Jim, and them as don't like me--wall, they don't call." "Well, I've called, and I call you Jim." "All right; let's see yer tackle," said Jim.
Jim took the rod that Yates handed to him, looked it over, and then said: "When ye come to Sevenoaks ye didn't think o' goin' a fishin'.
This 'ere tackle wasn't brung from the city, and ye ain't no old fisherman.

This is the sort they keep down to Sevenoaks." "No," said Yates, flushing; "I thought I should find near you the tackle used here, so I didn't burden myself." "That seems reasomble," said Jim, "but it ain't.

A trout's a trout anywhere, an' ye hain't got no reel.

Ye never fished with anything but a white birch pole in yer life." Yates was amused, and laughed.

Jim did not laugh.