is the wealth of Waverley?"

"What else, Brother Samuel?"

"There is the matter of the fish-ponds."

The Abbot's face brightened. It was a subject upon which he was
an authority. If the rule of his Order had robbed him of the
softer joys of life, he had the keener zest for those which
remained.

"How have the char prospered, brother?"

"They have done well, holy father, but the carp have died in the
Abbot's pond."

"Carp prosper only upon a gravel bottom. They must be put in also
in their due proportion, three milters to one spawner, brother
sacrist, and the spot must be free from wind, stony and sandy, an
ell deep, with willows and grass upon the banks. Mud for tench,
brother, gravel for carp."

The sacrist leaned forward with the face of one who bears tidings
of woe. "There are pike in the Abbot's pond," said he.

"Pike!" cried the Abbot in horror. "As well shut up a wolf in our
sheepfold. How came a pike in the pond? There were no pike last
year, and a pike does not fall with the rain nor rise in the
springs. The pond must be drained, or we shall spend next Lent
upon stockfish, and have the brethren down with the great sickness