MR. POOLEVS DAY OUT 

 of three dishes, the principal one consisting of the 



lish he is aboill to Catch, with I/aak Walton's 



instructions for cooking them. The miller gener- 

 ally puts on a somewhat distressing smile on this 



occasion, as the said dish of fish is rather addressed 

 to the imagination than otherwise food for the 

 mind alone. Behold him now, seated on a spot 

 which has long home his name (Mr. Poolcy's Seal). 

 The story runs, that he once caught a pike thereof 

 five pounds; but the truth is, that the said pike 

 was actually only two pounds, but lie added a 

 pound to its weight every passing year, because he 

 said that the fish would have gained as much had 

 lie lived up to the present day of reckoning. This 

 was a mode of calculation that some even of his 

 most intimate friends could not assent to, but he 

 was always peremptory on the subject. His person 

 now being fairly disposed on the bank, with his 

 short and comely legs dangling over the weir, he 

 becomes deeply intent upon his neatly painted float. 

 On this his longing eyes are bent. He sees but 

 askance the swallows that flit by him, and the 

 willow that droops over the pool — he sees only his 

 float. By Jupiter, it bobs ! — now is the decisive 

 moment. Prompt and energetic, he gives a scientific 

 jerk, and up comes the light line obedient. Is there 

 the semblance of a fish at the end of it ? O no, 

 certainly not. What then made the float move ? 

 Who can say ? Perhaps it was only a delusion of 

 the optics brought on by a sanguine temperament, 

 or a slight ruffle occasioned by the zephyrs that 

 kissed thy Cockney waters, O gently slumbering 

 Lea! You were excited, Mr. Pooley, you must 



